Come the Mayan Sun
by Mr. Id
Summary: In the new century, the entire world is being threatened by a strange cult with access to ancient Dark magic. The Auror, Harry Potter, is called in once again to save humanity. With the help of a few friends.
1. Part 1: The Sunset

-1Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. Any aspects used here are for entertainment purposes, and no money has been made from their usage.

Come the Mayan Sun

Part 1: The Sunset

The ancient temple cut a jagged line through the blood red sky of southern Mexico. The sun had already fallen below the horizon, but night had not yet fallen on the Mayan ruins lost in the jungles no man dared enter. No man save the few who knew the ruins still existed, and who dedicated their entire existence to the purpose these ancient buildings had yet to serve. A man stood at the top most step of the central temple, still and hard as the stone that surrounded him. Feathers plucked from the winged serpent sat atop the ceremonial headdress that marked him as the High Priest of the ancient Mayan cult he served.

The priest surveyed the land before him, his harsh gaze falling on the temple steps turned red as fresh spilled blood by the dim rays of twilight. Acolytes climbed the steps slowly, dragging their heavy burdens behind them to be offered upon the altar of the darkest gods. In the threadbare burlap sacks they carried, the still bodies of the innocent native people the cult needed to achieve their goals slept, unaware of the horrible end they would soon face. A small, hideous smile cracked the leather of the priest's face, thinking how the flowing blood of their sacrifices would soon paint the steps of this temple the color of the dying sun.

Harry easily caught the quaffle Ron had tried his best to sneak past him. Fingering the old, red leather of the Weasley family ball, Harry wondered idly what his Quidditch career at Hogwarts would have been like if he had played Chaser like his father instead of Seeker. Probably a lot less lonely, he smiled bitterly to himself, before throwing the ball back at his friend. They were playing two-man Quidditch in the field behind the Burrow, using the goal posts the Weasley brothers had set up during a particularly boring summer of adolescence. The sun was setting fast, and Harry was growing frustrated as Ron's Keeper skills proved far superior. It was almost as bad as playing him at chess, Harry thought, but at least he got an excuse to fly for a few hours this way.

"C'mon, boys!" Mrs. Weasley yelled from the kitchen door, making Harry sigh in relief. Getting Ron to stop playing was like pulling teeth, most days. After storing the brooms and quaffle back in the shed, the two friends headed in for another of Mrs. Weasley's infamously huge and delicious family dinners. Ginny and Hermione sat at the table chatting, while Mr. Weasley played with a socket Harry had given him last week. The twins were still locked in their old room, coming up with a new product for the store, while Mrs. Weasley set about the dangerous task of dragging the two of them away from their work long enough to eat.

"Charlie coming home for Victory Day this year?" Harry asked Ron, taking a roll from a basket before passing it on. Ron, through an already stuffed mouth, managed to respond, "Think so. It's been pretty quiet in Romania. Bill and Fleur even promised they'd make it here from France with the kids."

"They're bringing all the little wigglers?" Harry asked, referring to Bill and Fleur's many children with the nickname the rest of family used for the little balls of energy. Christmas two years ago at the Burrow had been rather interesting as three of the kids actually managed to blow the top floor of the house off.

"I think they're expecting again," Hermione said with a significant look at Ron. The two had been married for three years, but despite the infamous Weasley fertility, they hadn't produced any children of their own yet. Ron, as always, was completely oblivious as he took a long swig from his pumpkin juice. Ginny quirked an eyebrow at Harry, and he wondered if Ron's ignorance might be on purpose this time.

"Can't they think of anything better than Victory Day?" Ginny asked the room, turning the topic away from children and marriage in general. She had never quite forgiven Harry for leaving her behind to fight Voldemort with Ron and Hermione. The two had tried to renew their relationship several times since the end of the war, but it always ended as passionately as it started. No one was certain if they'd ever make it work long enough to settle down and marry, though Mrs. Weasley tried her best to help them along.

"I still say they should have gone with He-Whose-Ass-Was-Righteously-Kicked Day," Fred said as he and George came barreling into the room, grabbing food out of Hermione's hands as she tried to make sure everyone got enough. Molly followed them and immediately set about piling small mountains of food on Harry and Hermione's plates. She always complained that the two of them never ate enough, which was probably true, considering neither of them came from her house. Little things like this always made Harry so glad to have the Weasley's as an adopted family.

"I'm surprised they didn't name the day after Harry, honestly," Hermione said, smiling as she picked at Harry's discomfort with public attention. Everyone knew quite well there had been a large movement to do just that the first year after Harry had finally managed to kill the last Dark Lord. Harry, who had just been entering Auror training after finishing his N.E.W.T. equivalency tests, had used every connection he had at the Ministry to make sure it didn't happen. Harry simply stuck his tongue out at his other best friend and said, "I saw a lot of the suggestions, and frankly Victory Day was the least…dumb one they came up with."

"Do you have a date to the Ministry's celebration dinner yet, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked brightly, with a rather obvious look toward Ginny. Harry just sighed and shook his head, tucking into his dinner in order to avoid yet another vigorous campaign by his favorite mother to make him an official son-in-law. Frankly, he didn't even want to go to the party the Ministry had set up, as it was sure to be another year of people he didn't know talking to him all night and all sorts of made up awards being given to him. Ron just said he was being ungrateful, still a little jealous of his famous friend despite the massive amount of attention he had received himself after the war.

"You really ought to ask Ginny," Hermione said without looking up from the muggle newspaper she was reading. She and Harry were at lunch together at a café near the Ministry, leaving poor Ron behind to finish the mound of arrest reports he had let pile up the last week. Work at the Auror office was always hectic, but Hermione just sighed at her husband's ability to procrastinate more than anyone on the planet.

"What's that?" Harry asked, knowing perfectly well what she meant. He was being attacked on two fronts now, he thought bitterly.

"To the Ministry's Victory Day dinner. No one else has asked her out for that night," she said primly, folding her newspaper and giving Harry a significant stare. Not able to meet that wilting gaze, he ducked his head sighed into his lunch.

"I really don't want to think about her dating habits," Harry said, the old beast rearing its head deep in his stomach. Despite all his efforts, he couldn't help but be incredibly jealous when he heard Ginny was dating someone. His own love life was rather barren, though he was never sure if he liked it that way or not.

"You're just being silly," Hermione said in her lecture voice, cultivated from several years in the Research Branch of the Department of Mysteries. "You two love each other, but you're both too thickheaded to do anything about it."

Harry gave her a stare he had obtained facing down some of the most evil people Britain had produced in the last century. It was just enough to make his friend realize she had hit a nerve. Shaking his head, Harry picked at what was left on his plate. After a moment, he said, "Ginny and me…look, 'Mione. We both know I'm almost as bad as Ron when it comes to women. But…all that, the past few years. That's between me and her, okay?"

Hermione frowned, but decided not to say anything more and just nodded as she finished her coffee. It wasn't really Harry being hardheaded, like she often thought after talking with Molly Weasley. He and Ginny really did have a lot of issues standing between them. After five years, since their seventh year and the end of the war, even she was beginning to doubt the two would ever be together. The problem then, she thought, was that Harry might never find a woman he could really love. After all the horrible things he had gone through and triumphed over in his life, Harry Potter at least deserved to have someone to be with.


	2. Part 2: The Shindig

-1Part 2: The Shindig

The Ministry's Victory Day gala was in full swing, and Harry Potter hated it. He stared sullenly into his punch as he swirled it around the tiny cup it was served in, trying his best to avoid any human contact, and failing horribly. The Creevey brothers' adulation he could take, and had even grown to like as they matured and settled down after school, but they were the least of his worries at a public victory celebration like this. It seemed everyone inside the Ministry and then some were doing their best to catch Harry's attention and impress the man who had won the war.

Harry had almost lost his arm to the boisterous and smarmy new Minister of Magic, though Harry did like him quite a bit more than the domineering Scrimgeour. After all the accolades and usual praising of Harry and all those involved in the final battles of the war, the guests had settled into a more social atmosphere. Ron hadn't left the buffet table since dinner had started a couple of hours ago.

"Harry, look who it is," Hermione called brightly. She had been anything but helpful this evening, as it seemed she had started on a new crusade to match him up with any and all available women at the party. Apparently, the bushy-haired bookworm had decided that if Harry wasn't going to go out with Ginny, then he was damn well going to go out with someone. This was the fourth girl she had found for him that night.

"Oh, uh…hi," Harry said uncertainly, plastering a forced smile onto his face. His friend was standing behind his chair with a firm grip on the arm of a very nervous looking blonde about their age. Hermione was positively beaming, despite the fact that Harry had not been receptive to her last few attempts, and said, "You remember Susan, don't you? She was in the D.A. in school, and she's even Amelia Bones' niece. I bet you two have a lot to talk about."

With that, Hermione sidled away stealthily, leaving a positively frightened Susan Bones looking into the jaws of abject humiliation. Harry felt some compassion for the poor woman, mostly because she at least hadn't immediately attached herself to Harry's arm and begun talking about the most inane minutia of his life that all the various young witch's magazines had printed about him. There were things in those articles that he himself had forgotten about, and it was incredibly disturbing to hear someone he didn't know talking about him like a dissected frog.

"Hey, Susan," Harry said self-consciously. Susan jumped at the sound of his voice, and began looking at the floor helplessly. He sighed and vowed that Hermione would pay dearly for this night later. Searching for a way out of this particular dilemma, Harry noticed Colin seemed to be almost hypnotized by the girl, and thought he might have an answer. Clearing his throat, Harry tried again, "Susan, do you remember Colin? He was part of the D.A., too. I think you guys might have practiced together…"

Harry trailed off, at a loss for how to get the two talking. Susan, however, jumped at the chance to avoid having to seduce the most famous wizard in the world, or whatever it was Hermione was trying to get her to do. She quickly took a seat next to Colin that was as far away from Harry as she could be while still being at the same table. Harry slumped in relief before deciding he needed some more punch. With Colin and Dennis properly distracted, he might be able to make it through the crowd without too much unwanted attention.

"Wotcher, Harry," came a voice from behind as the house elf bartender happily served him his drink. Turning, Harry smiled, seeing Tonks standing behind him. She gave a smirk and continued, "Still beating off the ladies, I see."

"Hey, Tonks," Harry with a tired laugh. The fellow auror still insisted on being called by her maiden name, even though her last name had changed to Lupin several years ago. "Hermione seems intent on either torturing me or marrying me off. Either way, it's working. Where's our favorite teacher?"

"Oh, he's not feeling well," Tonks said in a sad way that Harry immediately understood her meaning. Brightening a bit, she said, "But, ever the gentleman, my dear husband decided I needed to come tonight and mingle with my co-workers. Not to mention giving a big Victory Day hug to our favorite honorary nephew."

With that, Tonks swept Harry into a bone crushing hug Mrs. Weasley would have been proud of, his objections falling on deaf ears. Harry sighed, knowing that she meant it, but also because Mrs. Nymphadora Lupin had a habit of publicly embarrassing him as much as possible at every given opportunity. Sometimes, he thought the woman lived off of seeing him blush like a schoolgirl. Harry sighed and looked around the large ballroom inside the Ministry, only to be met with the laughing stares of many of his best friends and complete strangers. Somehow, the fact that most of the girls in the room seemed upset and jealous to see a woman attached like a vice around his midsection didn't do anything to cheer him up.

"C'mon, Nymphadora, get off," Harry said loudly, knowing that that was the only way to end it quickly. Tonks quickly jumped back and swatted him in the back of the head, which promptly caused the Weasely twins to fall over in laughter at a nearby table where they were discussing business plans with potential investors. Needless to say, this discussion involved a lot of drinking and trying of sample products, and the people at the next table were getting rather tired of the giant pink frogs that kept hopping over and croaking rather rude limericks at them.

"So, what's this about Hermione torturing you?" Tonks said, sticking her tongue out at Harry instead of telling him off yet again for using her first name. At this point, trading embarrassments was almost a rehearsed routine between the two. Remus seemed jealous of the report his wife and Harry had at times, but he still laughed as much as anyone. Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his tousled hair.

"She won't stop bringing over girls I barely knew in school," Harry said, looking around in fear that just talking about her might have brought his best friend back with a vengeance and some of the old Slytherin girls in tow. Tonks giggled at his obvious discomfort, but Harry just said, "I was talking with her the other day, and I think I finally convinced her to stop trying to convince me to settle down with Ginny. Unfortunately, it seems she's bent on making sure there's at least one girl she can insist I marry every time I see her."

"Aw, poor Harry," Tonks said with a fake pout, "but you know, it is about time the most eligible wizard in the world found a girl. I know! So Hermione'll leave you alone, why don't I make a few changes and be your date for the evening?" Tonks asked with a wink, striking a pose and using her metamorphmagus abilities to ridiculously exaggerate certain parts of anatomy. The effect was surprising, and it didn't help that her dress could have already been considered revealing. The sudden growth turned more than a few heads of passersby, but Harry just shook his head.

"That's all right, I wouldn't want anything getting back to your husband," Harry kidded. He knew she was trying to get a rise out of him, but he refused to let her get him again so soon. Though, he had to admit, he had seen her do some pretty amazing things with her appearance changing powers over the years with the Aurors. No, Harry thought, shouldn't be thinking like that.

"Oh, Remus knows me better than that," Tonks smiled, letting her body fall back into all its normal places. Harry was glad she had decided sometime during her relationship with Harry's friend and mentor to leave her appearance untouched with any of her quirky enhancements. The pink hair and purple eyes were fun, but her natural look suited her more as she slowly headed toward maturity. Harry broke out of his staring as Tonks shook her head and looked behind him, saying, "You know, Hermione is only looking out for you, Harry. You spend too much time alone, and you work too hard, even for an Auror. You're starting to turn into Moody."

Harry smiled at the joke, but wondered if she might not be right. Most of his life was taken up by work, and even though he enjoyed his career, he wondered if it might be a way of hiding from the social world. Following Tonks' gaze, Harry saw that Hermione had returned to the table he had just left, looking confused and trying to pry a bubbly Susan away from an enraptured Colin. Maybe he shouldn't turn down any opportunity to speak to a single woman just because he didn't appreciate his friends trying to meddle.

"Fine," Harry said in a feigned painful tone, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt too much to humor Hermione a little next time she manages to convince some poor girl to talk to me. As long as it isn't anyone like Romilda Vane or Pansy Parkinson."

"I'm gonna have to hear the stories behind those names someday," Tonks laughed, a split second before screaming and hysteria broke out on the other side of the ball room. The battle trained Aurors immediately had their wands out, heading through the surging mass of people. Neither could tell from so far away if there was an actual emergency occurring, but they had learned in war to err on the side of caution. Elbowing his way between two dumbstruck members of the Wizengamot, Harry became immediately aware of what was causing the uproar.

The crowd parted in two as a body came literally screeching from the large entrance and headlong at Harry. In the horrible instant he had before it was on him, he noticed that it looked almost human, only small and frail with an oddly sick green color. Some odd dark mass was clawing its way out of the torn edges of the almost human things mass, spreading in a dark cloud over the room. He was crouching with a stunner spell half formed in his mouth when the body hurtled over his head and through the rest of the partygoers as if it were a rag doll being pulled on a string by some powerful force.

Whatever was spewing from its mouth descended on them as it passed, causing a new level of pandemonium. Harry swatted at the things now clinging to his robe, noticing distractedly that they were some large insect. He only hoped they weren't magical or harmful in any way, as he and Tonks almost as one sent scorching hexes into the swarm above them.

"All non-Ministry and other civilians vacate the hall immediately," came the loud cry of Amelia Bones, already organizing the worried masses out of the large double doors as Kingsley Shacklebolt began organizing the attending Aurors to take control of the situation. Most of the insects had been burnt out of the air, and the crowd thinned as frightened wizards and witches stormed out into the hall. Whatever it was that had attacked the celebration had crashed straight into the buffet table, sending finger foods and punch flying and breaking whatever bones were in the thing's small body. Hermione suddenly appeared next to Harry, looking very disheveled, asking what was happening.

"Not certain," Harry said, stowing his wand. "All I saw was some green, human shaped thing flying into the ball room with bugs spewing out of its mouth. Ring any bells with you?"

"Hmm," Hermione concentrated for a moment, still dazed from the commotion, "not any Dark Creature or spell I know of. If it's still here, we need to bring it to the Department of Mysteries to be properly examined."

"You'll have to take that up with Bones and Shacklebolt," Tonks said as she approached them, now all business with the possibility of danger. "Since this seems to have been an attack on Ministry personnel, they'll take jurisdiction as Law Enforcement."

Harry bent down and picked up one of the dried husks of the insects. Looking at it as closely as he could with it at arm's length, he said, "We need to check on these things, too. They might be magical, or at least help us identify our little intruder. Any idea what they are?"

"Locusts," came a voice from behind the three. Turning, they saw Neville walk up and take the dead locust from Harry's hand. "A Central American species, to be exact. I don't know if there are any magical versions, but these appear to be the normal sort."

Looking up to three blank stares, Neville smiled nervously and said, "If you want to be an expert on plants, you have to know the things that eat them, too." Harry laughed and patted Neville on the back. His old friend wasn't an Auror, but did work in the Ministry in one of the Departments that kept track of the more benign Magical Creatures and Plants. Honestly, Harry didn't know much about it, as he never understood Neville's long speeches about the intricacies of his job, but at least he seemed content whenever Harry saw him.

"Good," Tonks said, obviously impressed with Neville's knowledge. She began steering him toward Kingsley and the rest of the Aurors as Harry and Hermione followed. "It'll be a big help if you and Hermione come with us to the Auror office. Identifying whatever attacked the party is going to be a tough job, and we won't know the who or why until then, either."

"We can establish the why right now, Tonks," Kingsley Shacklebolt said as the group joined the other attending Aurors around the broken buffet and the crumpled remains of the attacker. Hermione immediately went to Ron and embraced him, much to Ron's embarrassment. At least Harry wasn't the only one. Kingsley continued after Tonks gave him a quizzical look, "This was the biggest gathering of Ministry officials at one time in a relaxed atmosphere. Our security has been loosening more every year since the war. It was the perfect opportunity to attack any and every of the most important and powerful wizards in the country."

"Which, though?" asked Mad-Eye Moody, who had stayed behind with all the Aurors despite being retired. "That's rather a lot of people you described, Kingsley, and that seemed like a rather personal attack. Obviously not lethal, most likely meant as a threat to someone. Now we need to figure out which one of the Magical world's most famous was the target."

"That should be obvious," Hermione said. Everyone turned to see her bent over, already studying the now spent creature lying in a pile of Snapping Shrimp. Grabbing the head by its stringy white hair, she lifted it for the gathered audience to see. "Who is the most famous of all the famous witches and wizards in Britain? The one most prone to attacks and threats from Dark wizards?"

No one answered, all eyes fixed on the forehead of the grotesque creature. Etched roughly into the green skin of the thing was the crude image of a lightning bolt. It was an obvious, almost cartoonish message sent its target. Harry Potter decided his love life would have to wait a little while longer.


	3. Part 3: The Totem

-1Part 3: The Totem

"Neville helped narrow the search by quite a lot," Hermione said, rolling out an old parchment on an already crowded table. She had been bringing up as many relevant texts to the Auror office as she could manage to fit inside the magical lift as everyone gathered for a debriefing on the situation in order to find some answers. At this point, all they knew was that it was a Dark magic attack, sent as some sort of omen to Harry in the middle of the biggest Ministry celebration of the year.

"See this?" Hermione asked, pointing to an old ink sketch of a human-like creature. "I don't have much, but I found all the information I had on hand about South American Dark magic. It's rather interesting, actually, a lot of things I'll have to remember to study more closely later."

Ron was very lucky Hermione was too absorbed in her scroll to notice him rolling his eyes, Harry thought, or Hermione would have definitely dome something rather nasty and imaginative to some of his more tender areas. The two had always had a passionate relationship, Harry though. Fighting heatedly, but just as often locked in some intense embrace he wished they would keep more private. Moody, growing impatient with all this speculation and no criminals to hex, stomped his cane on the floor for attention and asked, "A point to this, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said, a small blush crossing her cheeks. "I found this, a mention of dark rituals in the old native civilizations in America. It isn't too specific, but there's something about priests there sacrificing humans by carving out their hearts. If the proper magic was applied, wizards in these cultures could use the bodies, almost like Inferi, only more powerful. They weren't just decaying bodies, marginally reanimated. They became Dark creatures, pledged to serve their gods, with strength beyond any human. These things, translated here as 'columns' or 'totems', were thought to be impervious, but the Spanish conquerors supposedly destroyed what was left of them and the priests who made them."

"That's interesting," Kingsley said, coming around the table to read over Hermione's shoulder. "That certainly defines the attacker. From what we can tell so far, it was once human, or close to it, but is now just a dried out husk. We're going to need to find something more specific on this ritual, and the priests who practiced it. Might give us some clue as to who made this thing and how they did it. For now, we'll have to assume that our perpetrator is American."

"That doesn't give us much, chief," Ron said with a scratch of his head. A few Aurors rolled their eyes at his momentous talent to state the obvious, but it was true. Harry frowned as he looked over the scrolls Hermione had dug up. He had thought that things like this were over with. He could deal with Dark magic and all those who practiced it, but personal attacks, someone singling him out because of who and what he was, he had thought were a thing of the past. The lightning bolt carved out as a message to him told him that part of his life had just been opened again.

"No, it doesn't, Weasley," Shacklebolt said with a sigh. "We're not going to find out much more by standing around here worrying, either. The Department of Mysteries is going to work on finding out everything they can from that, ah…totem thing, with Mrs. Weasley leading the investigation. As for us, we need to start rounding up the usual suspects and sorting out the mess in the ball room upstairs. I'll have assignments in the morning, but for now, all of you go find your loved ones and calm them down."

Most of the room nodded and left hurriedly back toward the Atrium where most of the guests had been relocated. Hermione began packing away her tomes and parchments before noticing Harry's pensive mood as he stared at the totem that had attacked them laid out on another table in the briefing room. Frowning, she walked to her friend and put a warm hand to his shoulder. Harry didn't speak but turned his head slightly to acknowledge her. With a concerned sigh, Hermione said, "It'll be all right, Harry. We'll start working on it in the morning. Nothing to worry about, and nothing you have to do on your own."

Her words touched him, and happy memories of the loyalty of his friends flooded him for a moment. No one could have asked for anyone more loyal to stand by their side. Harry realized he could never thank them enough for what they had done for him over the years, but Hermione had assured him many times before that he didn't have to. He turned to her, smiling gently, and said, "Sorry I was so mean to all those girls, 'Mione."

Harry stifled a yawn as he searched for the key to his flat. The hall in his apartment building was always too dark to distinguish any of the many items on his key ring, leaving him to struggle in pointless frustration for several minutes every time he entered his home. Still, it was worth living in one of the nicer areas of Muggle London, he thought, triumphantly holding the key to his door up to the single bare bulb that was left on this late at night.

Ready to slide his victorious find home, a muffled sound coming from inside the flat stopped him. He had an intruder. Damn, he thought, what a wonderful way to end this night. Readying his wand, he listened for a moment. Quiet footsteps and small crashes indicated someone trying very unsuccessfully to move about undetected. At least it was a dumb intruder, he thought, quietly turning the key as he prepared to take whoever it was unawares. His hand stopped on the knob as the thought that this might be connected to the earlier attack crossed his mind. He definitely didn't want to deal with another of those totem things, alone in his apartment.

He couldn't let this person get away by waiting to get help, either, he thought. With renewed determination, he slowly turned the knob, before bursting into the room and bringing his wand to bear on the small area that served as his den. A high pitched scream sounded as Harry saw a thin figure jump beneath his couch. That certainly wasn't what he'd expected, Harry thought, noting nothing really looked out of place or missing, and only an end table had been overturned.

"All right," Harry said loudly, "Come out from there. Stand up with your hands empty and were I can see them."

"Por favor, Senor Potter, sir," said the high voice with a heavy Hispanic accent. It didn't sound Spanish, but Harry wasn't familiar enough with the Americas to place it. "I beg your mercy, sir. Felipe was coming only to warn you, sir."

"Just stand up," Harry sighed. This guy sounded almost as pitiful as Dobby. Certainly not the usual profile for a felon. The slightly gangly man stood up, his arms shaking as he held them up to show he wasn't holding a wand. Harry guessed that if the guy knew his name, he must be a wizard. Felipe, if that was his name, was certainly Hispanic, a very thin and bookish looking male in his thirties, with overly large glasses slowly sliding down his nose. His robes were odd, brightly colored, certainly not British fashion.

"What're you doing in my house?" Harry asked shortly. His wand was held steady on Felipe, who glanced between it and his face, clearly very frightened.

"Mercy, senor. Do not be cursing me, please. I was only coming here to warn you, sir," he swallowed, trying to steady his voice and control his accent. "There is…many things, senor. Many bad things. Coming for Senor Potter, sir. My superiors sent me to help."

"Superiors?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused. He lowered his wand slowly, sensing the man wasn't a threat. The intruder was visibly relieved, but Harry was sure not to let his guard drop too far. He had known too many Dark wizards who had been rather convincing actors in his years. Curious, he asked, "Does this have anything to do with the attack on the Ministry tonight?"

"Attack? Oh, I apologizing, senor. I did not know Nuevo Sol would be coming so soon," the man said, truly sorry. He looked rather shaken, what with Harry surprising him and this apparently bad news. Harry frowned, he didn't know what this guy was talking about, but he seemed harmless. That, and he seemed to know something about the attack.

"All right, uh, Felipe, was it? Calm down. Take a seat and we'll talk about it. First of all, who exactly are you?"

"Oh, gracias, Senor," Felipe said, collapsing onto the couch. "You are more wonderful than they say. I was sent to protect you, sir. My name is Felipe Mercador."


	4. Part 4: The Visitor

-1Part 4: The Visitor

Hermione took to Felipe, or Phil, as Ron called him, very easily. The two were looking over her books and talking animatedly at her small desk in the Department of Mysteries. Harry looked on, rather bored after the second hour of complex discussion between the two. Ron was doing his best not to fall asleep, while Tonks was waiting diligently for him to nod off so she could mess with his face using a quill she'd found. Shacklebolt was still talking to the head of the Department of Mysteries, with Amelia Bones and other high ranking officials.

Their foreign visitor had shed a lot of new light on the attack last night, after Harry had finally gotten him to calm down and gotten some coffee into him. Phil had apparently been traveling for several days, trying to get across the Atlantic and find Harry as quickly as he could to warn him. He had overloaded Harry with information on the subject, until he finally convinced his unexpected guest to catch some sleep on the couch and wait until they could talk to everyone in the morning.

Hermione was very excited when it was confirmed that they had indeed been attacked by a Mayan totem, and now they were discussing aspects of Central American Dark magic. Harry had been able to gather that Phil was from the Mexican Wizarding government, and had been sent to help after their department of law enforcement had uncovered information on a plot by some group in their country to attack Harry. Unfortunately, Phil had explained sheepishly, it had been his government's fault that the group targeted him in the first place.

The Mexican wizards had been trying to deal with this cult, the New Sun, for several years. Their motives were rather sketchy, and all anyone had discovered was that their intents were very Dark in nature, and connected to ancient American magic. The Mexican wizard law enforcers, known there as the Mejicano Magia Militar, had discussed ways to help their investigation, including a plan to enlist the help of the world's best known defeater of Dark wizards, Harry Potter. The New Sun had discovered this, and had apparently sent the totem as a warning for him to stay on his side of the pond.

After this, Harry sort of blacked out, and Hermione had drawn Phil deep into a discussion of Mayan magic and other subjects. The Ministry was now trying to come up with a plan regarding all this, but Harry and his friends had vocally been in favor of going to Mexico and putting a stop to all this. That is, Ron had told Kingsley Shacklebolt that's what they needed to do, Tonks jumped in excitement, Harry shrugged, and Hermione had simply rolled her eyes. Still, Felipe looked very happy that they wanted to help.

"Mrs. Lupin, please stop torturing Mr. Weasley," Amelia Bones said sternly, as she walked into the small office area followed by Kingsley and the other department officials. Tonks snapped to attention, looking the picture of innocence and hiding the feather quill behind her back. Ron gave a rather loud sneeze that managed to shake him fully awake. Harry and the others stood to hear what their superiors had decided.

"Mr. Mercador, we would like to thank you for all the assistance you've provided in this case," Shacklebolt smiled warmly at the small man, who looked blustered at the praise and gave an awkward sort of half bow, obviously unsure how he should answer. "However," the Auror added good naturedly, "we would ask you to come directly to the Ministry with issues such as these. You'll find it much easier than entering one of our employee's homes."

Felipe looked down in obvious embarrassment, but Hermione gave him a comforting pat on the back. Amelia Bones cleared her throat, reminding everyone that they were still in the middle of a meeting. Pulling out a piece of parchment, she consulted it briefly before addressing everyone, "Well, we've reviewed the information provided to us by Mercador, and after receiving a few trans-Atlantic albatrosses from the Mexican wizarding government, we've decided the incident in the Ministry last night and this apparent threat from the New Sun group is now a direct threat to Great Britain."

The others exchanged glances, before Harry spoke up, " I suppose that means we're going to Mexico, Miss Bones?"

"Very astute, Mr. Potter," Amelia said with an annoyed glance, though Harry knew she had an appreciation for his sometimes dry wit. "You and your partner Mr. Weasley will be escorting Mr. Mercador back to his country, and when you're there, you will provide any assistance you can to his government. Mrs. Weasley will accompany you, as an expert advisor. And finally, Mrs. Lupin has…volunteered her services as well. You'll all be departing this afternoon, so prepare well. Dismissed."

Harry gave Tonks a questioning look, but she only smiled mischievously. Hermione began gathering her scrolls, while Phil bustled about excitedly helping prepare to leave. Ron just shrugged and followed Shacklebolt to the lifts so he could get some things from the office. Looking around, Harry decided this was going to be a long trip."

"Should we contact Hogwarts?" Harry asked, eating a quick lunch as he shouldered several bags of Auror equipment, headed toward the apparition points in the Ministry. "Maybe someone will be willing to help. Hagrid would certainly be useful against anymore of those totem things."

"Harry," Tonks said, shaking her head, "this isn't a mission with the Order of the Phoenix. We're on official Auror business here. Which means no making up your own rules. At least not till we get out of the country."

Harry sighed, knowing she was right. Ron had already left with Hermione to their home to pack clothes and such, and Phil was waiting happily in the Atrium, waiting for the others to get ready. Harry checked his watch, making sure he had time to grab some clothes before they left for the airport. Ron had already voiced his concern with boarding a large tube of metal built by Muggles, but Hermione had stared him back into silence. Turning, Harry said, "Are you sure you're okay with going, Tonks? What about Remus?"

"Remus is…" Tonks said sadly. Harry regretted asking, but she continued, "He'll be okay. You know him, he needs to prove he can take care of himself. That, and he insists on keeping his distance during the full moon. I tell him I'm an Auror and I want to be with him, but he just…couldn't take the guilt if something, ya know…"

"I know, Tonks," Harry patted her on the shoulder gently. He knew the two of them had been through rough times because of Lupin's affliction, but their love had held strong through it all. Still, the two were both rather hard headed, and they could have some bad disagreements at times. Tonks had only volunteered just so she wouldn't have to be around while Remus pushed her away, too afraid of hurting the woman he loved. It was okay, though, Harry though, she was a great person and a talented Auror, and she could only be an asset on the trip.

"Okay," he said, switching gears, "If I can't bring a half-giant with me, I'm at least stopping by Fred and George's. Some of the new prototypes they mentioned the other day sounded like they might come in handy on a dangerous assignment like this." Tonks gave Harry a big smile, grateful for his ability to always make her happy. The two had only grown closer during her years married to Remus, and she considered the big hero one of her best friends.

"Whatcha need, Master Potter?" Fred asked with a mock bow. George stood next to him, presenting a display case like a woman on a game show. "We have all the finest and most ridiculously dangerous in modern espionage and warfare weaponry. Please, take what you need and don't be afraid to browse. Only the finest for our first and most beloved investor."

The two businessmen had whisked the two Aurors into the shop as soon as they had come in, passing the random school kids and rather eccentric wizards and witches that frequented the Wizarding Wheezes. There were several shops around Britain now, the most popular being the one in Hogsmeade, but the twins still called their small place in Diagon Alley home, not least because they lived in the apartment on the second floor.

"All right, all right," Harry sighed, Tonks doubling over next to him. "Cut the showboating. We're going out of country for some Dark wizard hunting, and I wondered if you guys might have anything useful for us. Maybe something not ready for…public sale?"

"Aha," George said, turning from the display and stepping toward a curtain set in the back of their shop, "our honored guest has impeccable taste, as always. I think we might just have a few things of interest. Follow me."

The twins disappeared into the back, and after a quick glance exchanged with Tonks, Harry followed, passing a small cage of slimy little things that appeared to be jibbering and giggling madly. The sign identified them as "Joke Slugs, disgust your teachers and entertain your friends all in one". Harry sighed but couldn't hide a smile at the dumb sense of humor the two Weasleys always had. Passing through the curtain in the back, Harry felt an odd sensation, as if he'd just walked through a wall of water.

Looking back at the doorway, Harry noticed many intricate runes placed carefully along the wood. Tonks had a serious expression, and Harry could tell these were some serious security wards. George had his hand on a small switch, which was most likely what had let the two Aurors enter. Whatever the twins had back here, it wasn't any of their normal little pranks.

"As you guys know," Fred said, much more serious, but still visibly excited, "the Aurors have contracted us to make several of our little inventions exclusively for them, including that blackout powder that caused some trouble during the War. What you might not know is that the Department of Mysteries has also asked us to develop a few things for them. We can't tell you about all of it, but we have a few prototypes not suitable for mass production we've been saving for you, Harry."

Tonks's expression showed she was just as surprised by this news as he was, but Harry was now very interested in what they had to show him. The twins had never failed to impress in the past. Reaching to a high shelf, George pulled down a harmless looking box. Pulling back the lid, he said, "We noticed how nasty those little bugs were at the Ministry last night. We certainly wouldn't want you to face a swarm like that again unprepared, especially when they could be a bit more dangerous than annoying next time."

Harry accepted the box and looked in, squinting due to the bad light in the back room. It contained a smooth metal object, with delicate metal wings folded up against the body. Reaching in hesitantly, Harry drew out the contraption, seeing it resembled a small bird, like a swallow, only entirely mechanical. Fred spoke up as Tonks peeked over Harry's shoulder to get a look, "The Automated Pest Catcher, just wind her up and let her go. Very useful for mosquitoes and such, too."

Harry marveled at the little device, and wondered if it could actually fly. It was certainly a feat of engineering, but not exactly awe inspiring, especially when going up against some weird cult. He placed it neatly back in the box and looked up to see the twins struggling with a huge crate stuck under one of the work benches in the dim room. Harry hurried to help, but Fred waved him back, saying, "Watch out, Harry, this one can be pretty cranky."

Tonks and Harry backed up and pressed against the wall as Fred and George dragged the box to the center of the floor, the padlock now shaking as whatever was inside moved about. The two Aurors were almost frightened to ask what was inside, let alone have a look. Harry was about to tell them they could manage without it when Fred turned, now brandishing an ax. Everyone shrank further back as Fred took the ax to the lock and stumbling back as the top of the crate flung itself wide.

After thirty seconds of very tense silence, the twins edged back toward the center of the room, Harry following behind hesitantly. Tonks was happy where she was, perched atop one of the higher shelves. Looking gingerly inside, Harry was surprised by what he saw. With a certain amount of uncertainty, he said, "It…it looks like a trunk. A trunk with…legs?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up," George said, still keeping his distance. "We didn't actually make this one, per se. Most of what it is sort of fell into our laps. We have been doing our best to calm down its temper. It will listen to its owner…mostly. And it's stopped eating most of the cotton clothes stored inside it."

At this, Harry was surprised to find he could make out a row of very many, very sharp looking teeth, the seemed to be made out of wood. A soft growl rumbled deep in the trunk's hinges as it flexed its strong, mahogany jaw and stretched out its four clawed and well varnished legs. Harry looked up to see that Fred was still holding the ax at the ready, and George was edging behind his brother. Harry swallowed and noticed that his mouth had gone rather dry, and croaked, "Uh, thanks, guys."

The two sprung forward in sudden determination, George slamming the lid shut and sitting down on it hard for good measure, and Fred running up with a new and bigger padlock. The two looked up with identical grins and said, "No problem."


	5. Part 5: The States

-1Part 5: The States

"Well, the twins are always good for a laugh, huh?" Ron said, eyeing the large chest Harry had been handling with extreme care and unease as they entered Heathrow. He, Hermione, and Felipe had been waiting for the other two to arrive, Hermione in the middle of another failed explanation of how airplanes actually worked. She seemed very happy to see some people with more experience with Muggle technology, though Ron and Phil still looked unbelievingly at the planes on the tarmac.

"And possible maiming," Harry said with a scowl. "At least that necromancer's sword they managed to enchant should be useful against the totem things. I'll show you all the other things they gave us once we get to New York."

"Why do we have to stop in the States, anyhow?" Ron asked, watching in awe as a concord took off. Hermione sighed as she handed Harry and Tonks their boarding passes. Tonks gave her a smile of encouragement, as she had to deal with a husband inexperienced in the Muggle world herself.

"Because, Ronald," Hermione said shortly, "the plane cannot make it all the way to the Yucatan from the UK. Besides, the Ministry contacted the US Wizarding government, and their intelligence people want to talk us about our mission. Just hope they don't stick their noses too far into things…"

Ron muttered something about a portkey, but Harry, who was worn out already, put a stop to the grumbling, "Portkeys aren't strong enough to cross the Atlantic, Ron, you know that. And seriously, Hermione, this isn't the time for political talk. Yell at the Americans when we get there, if you feel like it. We should all get some sleep on the plane, if at all possible."

"Yeah," Ron mumbled, "like I'm going to sleep while riding a giant hunk of metal strapped to a fan being hurled across the ocean…"

Harry had never actually been on an airplane, but his years of broom flying and experience in the Muggle world kept him from being too nervous. Ron and Phil, on the other hand, were both on the verge of a breakdown while they were still taxiing to the runway. The pretzels seemed to distract them, though, and Hermione managed to slip a small bit of Sleeping Draught into their drinks. Tonks put on a brave front, but she kept a death grip on Harry's forearm till they were in the air. She sheepishly admitted she'd never been great on a broom as Harry rubbed the handprints embedded into his arm.

"Now she's very cute, don't you think, Harry?" Hermione said, pointing out yet another one of the flight attendants to him. She had apparently taken his apology for being cold at the ball as an opportunity to pair him off with the nearest available woman as soon as possible. Harry sighed quietly and looked at the girl, who was quite pretty as she attempted to get a young boy to quiet down long enough for her to get his seatbelt on properly.

"She's nice, Hermione," Harry said, making his friend beam, "but do you honestly expect me to ask out a Muggle flight attendant on an international flight while on a Ministry mission?"

Hermione looked brave in the face of logic, and said testily, "No, I don't, Harry. I am just trying to see if you are even alive any more. Men your age can't keep their eyes off anything with long hair and a nice smile, but you haven't even shown the least bit of interest in a woman since, well…since…"

"I know since when," Harry said, now depressed at the thought, "and I really don't want to talk about it. Please? I know you think I need someone, but just…not right now. Not while we're out here trying to save the world from…whoever."

"Whomever," she said with a sad smile, patting Harry's arm gently. He took that as her agreement, and settled back to watch some mediocre romantic comedy he had thought he'd heard about, but then realized he was just thinking of every other mediocre romantic comedy he had seen. Hermione promptly buried herself in a book and Tonks fell asleep as the plane continued to glide smoothly over the Atlantic. Harry couldn't help wondering what waited for them on the other side.

New York wasn't so different from London, except for all the people, and the buildings. Not to mention the cars going down the wrong side of the road, which Ron was only too happy to yell about for several hours after almost getter run down by a taxi. Phil was about to have a panic attack from the sheer crush of people, so the more Muggle experienced people decided they needed to get to the local branch of the American Magical Intelligence Agency quickly. A couple of irritated and not exactly English speaking taxi drivers later, the five of them were standing before a small brownstone in Brooklyn.

"Err…so, how do we get in?" Harry asked, looking around for any sign of a phone booth like the one for visitors to the Ministry of Magic. Hermione took out a small parchment where she'd written the address and the instructions they'd received from Amelia Bones on getting into the American government building. Reading, she said, "I think…we enter the building using an unlocking spell and then take the lift down. Or up, I'm not sure."

Hermione approached the unassuming little home and muttered a quiet Allohamora before trying the door. She sighed with relief when it opened, and looked back at the group obviously pleased with herself. Ron gathered his bags and shuffled forward while Tonks followed, playfully pushing him along. Harry was glad their luggage had been taken to their hotel, as he wouldn't have wanted to haul that homicidal trunk around New York, especially since Fred had told him the thing didn't take kindly to being shrunk down for easier travel.

Felipe was looking relieved to be away from the vertigo-inducing skyscrapers of Manhattan, and followed the others through the door. Harry lingered a second longer on the porch, looking up and down the street. He didn't see anything odd, but he could have sworn he felt an odd tickling at the back of his neck, usually a good sign something ominous was afoot.

The AMIA was certainly different from the British Department of Mysteries, and the American furnishings weren't nearly as welcoming or charming as those in the Atrium. Ron complained about the lack of a giant, golden fountain while Tonks tried to flag down a secretary in order to inform whoever they needed to inform that they had arrived. They didn't have to wait long, as two people dressed in simple, sharp black suits with matching black robes approached them.

"Good morning, I am Agent Kemper and this is Agent Hearn," said the professional looking witch with short cut blond hair on the left. Her tall, dark, and silent partner simply inclined his head. "I do hope your flight was enjoyable, and we have ensured your accommodations while in the wonderful city of New York will be quite comfortable. May I say, it is an honor to meet you, Mr. Potter."

"Uh, thanks," Harry managed, shaking the woman's offered hand. Something about her brusque tone and business-like manner was very off putting to him. He wasn't at all sure whether he wanted to work with Agent Kemper or not. As everyone introduced, Harry noticed Agent Hearn eyeing Felipe with suspicion. He hoped Hermione wouldn't turn out to be right about the Americans.

"If you'd please follow us, we would like to discuss your business in North America. After that, you'll be free to leave and enjoy the wonderful city of New York, Agent Kemper said with a well rehearsed smile. The group followed the two agents through an endless series of identical white hallways and into a bare meeting room with a long table flanked by ten uncomfortable chairs.

"Please take a seat," Agent Kemper said, sitting down and drawing at a file from her robe. Opening it, she scanned several documents before addressing them again, "We were quite excited in the office here when we heard that you would be visiting us, Mr. Potter. Your Ministry contacted us yesterday before you left England to tell us you'd be arriving and a few details about your duty in Mexico. Our superiors would like to have a bit more information, though."

"And what, exactly, gives you the authority to question employees of another government about a mission in another country, Miss Kemper?" Hermione asked testily. Harry put a restraining hand on her arm, which got him a glare but she kept quiet. Now wasn't the time to argue over politics, Harry knew, but it was easy to get Hermione worked up. Thankfully, Agent Kemper just smiled politely and Agent Hearn fixed Hermione with a blank stare.

"The reason we ask, Ms. Granger," Agent Kemper asked, glancing down at her folder quickly, "Excuse me, Mrs. Weasley. We're asking because this does concern the AMIA. Our duty is to gain intelligence on all Wizarding governments and how they affect our own. We have very close ties with Britain, and as you can imagine, any time a situation occurs in Mexico, we often need to become involved."

"That's-!" Phil started, stopping himself quickly. Apparently, he was offended at Kemper's insinuation that Mexico always needed the U.S.'s help. He looked down at the table, embarrassed and offended. Kemper, however, remained calm, simply flipping a few pages in her folder.

"Yes, Mr. …Mercador. We are particularly interested in you," she said, staring intently at the now uncomfortable Phil. Hermione scowled, but Harry's hand on her arm kept her from another outburst. "When we contacted Mexico, we couldn't find anyone who actually knew your name. They know of the situation with the New Sun cult and their interest in Mr. Potter, but they assured us they hadn't sent an agent to the UK. Tell us, Mr. Mercador, what exactly is your position with the Mejicano Magia Militar?"

Phil shifted uncomfortably under the stares of everyone in the room. Ron was confused and Hermione looked curious, while Tonks was now eyeing their new friend with the same Suspicion Agent Hearn had shown. Coughing a bit, Phil stared at the glossy top of the table as he said, "Well, that is…I am not…ah, Madre, I would not say I am a…agent with el Militar. That is, I am…more of a…uh, I think, clerk. I work for the…filing. My father, though, father-!"

"Yes, your father," Agent Kemper said, looking at her notes again, "we were told to contact Marcos Mercador. It seems he is one of the best the Militar has seen, a highly decorated warrior. He seemed very concerned about your disappearance last week, Felipe. He told us to make sure you were okay and not causing any trouble."

"Um, si," Phil said quietly, watching his thumbs twirl around each other. Harry sighed and rested his head on his hand. Already, this little adventure was going down hill.


	6. Part 6: The Truth

-1Part 6: The Truth

Tonks and Harry were now sitting in a different room, somewhere in the offices of the AMIA. They were now in the inner parts of the organization, that looked quite a bit like the Auror's Headquarters with agents hurrying along the narrow corridors and working to finish various piles of paperwork. The sterile meeting room they had been in before, Agent Kemper admitted, was just one of the various places they used designed specifically to make people frightened and submissive.

Sipping a bad cup of coffee, America's national drink, Harry sighed at the new developments in this little mission. Agent Kemper was rifling through another huge stack of folders, as he and Tonks sat on the other side of her cluttered desk. The American agent seemed as attached to her files as Hermione was to her books and parchments. Ron and Hermione had taken Felipe to another area of the building so that Agent Hearn could sort out the mess with the officials in Mexico.

"Sorry about the hassle," Kemper said, apparently finding whatever it was she was looking for. "We wanted to give people as famous as all of you a better welcome, but the higher-ups insisted on the whole scare act till we were sure Mr. Mercador wasn't a threat."

"Guess we should apologize for that," Tonks said, scratching her chin self-consciously. "The Ministry should have checked all of the facts on this case before we brought him into your country."

"They did, actually," Kemper said, checking another paper on her desk, apparently something sent from Britain while Harry and the others were on the plane. "Auror Shacklebolt contacted us on emergency wireless a few hours after your plane left, explaining they'd hurried you out of the country, and they had only determined that the information on this New Sun cult was true. It took longer to discover the Mexicans didn't know about Mercador, and from there we found out who he was."

"You guys do quick work," Harry said, setting his cup down as far away from him as he could get it. "Working with another government, establishing his actual identity, only in a few hours. Wish we worked that efficiently in Europe."

"Harry's still sore at the Italian wizards for botching a case a year ago," Tonks said in a mock whisper, but Kemper just smiled at the compliment to her work. Throwing her won coffee away, Tonks yawned, saying, "Sorry, didn't sleep well on the plane. So, have you guys come up with a game plan? We haven't really got any orders for this situation, but I imagine you'll just have to send Phil back to his dad."

"My bosses haven't been too clear on that," Kemper said, now looking slightly worried. "Yes, they all agree, uh…'Phil' needs to return home immediately. However, the Mexican wizards seemed very interested in receiving your help, once they heard you would actually give it when asked. The New Sun has been more and more active in the Yucatan Province in the last few weeks, and they've been plaguing the Muggles there. The Magia Militar has no leads, and at the moment they lack the resources to crack this."

"You mean they might want us to actually come do what Phil asked?" Harry said, rather surprised. Like Tonks, he was unsure what they were going to do since it appeared their case had fallen apart, but it had never occurred to him that they might carry on and finish it. The prospect, though, was rather exciting. He hated for a case to just fizzle out, especially when the bad guys were still out there.

Tonks had actually hit a nerve by mentioning what had happened in Italy last year. A depraved man had mutilated House Elves there, and he had never been punished for it due to someone's incompetence with paperwork. Thinking of it still made him angry, and he was now determined that it would not happen again. Tonks sensed certain muscles clenching in Harry that meant he was pumped and ready to start tackling criminals. She just rolled her eyes, knowing they were going to Mexico for certain, now.

"What did you say about the Militar lacking resources?" Tonks asked, her curiosity suddenly piqued. Phil had come to Britain looking for the help of a famous defeater of Dark wizards, but he hadn't said anything about problems within the Militar itself. Then again, he probably wouldn't know if there were, being a clerk in the archives.

"There are problems in the Mexican Wizarding government at the moment," Kemper said, putting down her papers to speak to Tonks directly. "I haven't heard much about it, but it's apparently a rather big issue affecting most of the community. The wizard families in Mexico are rather aristocratic. They're not too bad about the whole purity of blood stuff, but they like to keep tradition. A new political party has formed recently, claiming the Wizarding government, the Militar in particular, is gaining too much power over citizens' rights."

"Huh," Harry said, mildly interested, "sounds like the problems the Muggles in this country are having right now."

"Not exactly," Kemper said, "this movement is sponsored by those old blood families, who don't want any of their traditions taken away. Mostly, though, they don't like the thought of losing the large amount of influence they've always had over the community, there. The families feel threatened by recent government expansions, and their new party is flexing all its muscle to limit the Militar's abilities."

"That's absurd," Tonks said, taking the issue personally as an Auror. "Has the government even done anything directly to these families, or is this just pure paranoia?"

"I don't know all of it," Kemper said with a frown. "A friend summarized most of it for me, but it's apparently all very complicated. The Wizard history in Mexico is very old, stretching far back before the Spanish came in. There's a name I remember, though, Sangria. Apparently he's the politician at the head of this new movement."

"Hmm," Harry said, "sounds like Mexico is going to be even more interesting than I thought."

"Senora, please-!" Phil started, as Agent Hearn led him rather forcefully through the halls of the complex. He had been rather upset since it was revealed he had lied about who he was, and now he was certain Hermione must hate him, as she was the one he had gotten to know best so far.

"It's okay, Felipe," Hermione said, patting his arm. She had been as surprised as anyone, but she wasn't really angry with Phil. She couldn't be; he was just too pitifully sweet. He shared her love of bookish knowledge, and the two had shared a lot of arcane magical information since meeting the other day. Hermione knew if Felipe had lied to do what he did, it was for a good reason, as he was just a shy man who looked up to all the people around him who did so much every day.

"I-I just…wanted to help, did not mean for, I am sorry Senor Weasley, Senora Weasley," Phil said quietly, looking very ashamed. Hermione was about to comfort him again, but Agent Hearn tightened his grip on his arm, and the small wizard fell silent again. Ron gave Hermione a concerned glance, showing his own doubts. Neither of them wanted anything to happen to their new friend. Agent Hearn had kept them in the dark for almost two hours, putting Phil through many tests to verify identity, and dealing with the Mexican officials over the wireless.

Now it seemed they were marching to meet whatever fate the powers that be had deemed fit for Felipe, and they were all understandably nervous. Hearn, a massive, enigmatic stereotype of a threatening federal agent, really wasn't helping with the situation. Hermione couldn't actually remember if she had heard the man speak since they met. He certainly hadn't given any indication as to what was going to happen next.

After another journey through a labyrinth of flat, gray corridors, they came out into a large room cramped with cubicles and people bustling about their work. Now this was more familiar, Hermione thought. It looked like the Ministry, only everything was furnished in plastic and metal, instead of the rich wood used by most British wizards. Just another quirk of the States, Hermione thought sarcastically. Hearn lead them deftly through the traffic of moving people, until they came upon a small sectioned off office, which happened to contain Agent Kemper and their friends.

"Harry, mate, finally," Ron said, gladly taking an empty chair, "find anything to eat here?"

"They've got bad coffee," Harry said, lifting his little plastic cup, "maybe if you look hard enough you'll find a half-finished box of pastries."

Ron mulled this idea over thoughtfully, as Hermione took a seat next to her always ravenous husband. Tonks smiled at her and asked what they'd been up to. As she began to relate their situation, Agent Hearn led Kemper off to talk in private, presumably about them. Harry offered Felipe a seat and tried to calm the older man down as Ron slipped off in search of donuts, and perhaps even a Danish.

"The Americans sure throw a great welcoming party," Hermione grumbled, leafing randomly through the many papers on Kemper's desk. Tonks laughed, but Harry mentioned Kemper had already apologized for that. Rolling her eyes, Hermione said, "I'm certain they wanted to give us a very dry and perfunctory welcome with all sorts of talk about international cooperation and all that rubbish."

"Wow, you're starting to sound like your husband," Harry laughed, not quite believing Hermione's petulance. Then again, he thought, she was very politically minded. It was incredibly easy to set her off on a rant about the States, especially in the last couple of years, even though Harry was the only one who kept up with Muggle news enough to understand her. He personally hated the petty little arguments politics produced so often these days, so he did his best to keep her at bay.

Hermione just harrumphed as the two American agents came back to the small, plastic office. Hearn was as unreadable as always, but Kemper now looked partway between upset and excited. Somebody must have decided something, Harry thought. At least they might finally get out here. Kemper got everyone's attention, just as Ron came ambling back with a donut in his mouth and a box in hand.

"Sorry to have kept all of you waiting so long," Kemper said, genuine emotion showing in her voice now. "Thankfully, all of our superiors have finally reached a decision on this little mess. Everyone agrees it would be best for all of you to continue on to Mexico to help the Militar with their investigation of the New Sun. Felipe will need to be escorted to the proper people so they can decide what to do about his…trans-Atlantic adventure. In order to help with this, the AMIA has offered its help by sending an agent to facilitate…international relations, so to speak. I've been assigned to accompany all of you to Mexico City, tomorrow morning."

Harry put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, knowing her first reaction would be indignation at American 'interference', as she'd call it. She kept quiet, but she gave Kemper a smoldering glare that the other woman chose to graciously ignore. Felipe looked even more nervous at the thought of facing the wrath of his employers in Mexico, while Tonks and Ron seemed perfectly fine with the decision. Harry, deciding to be practical and worry about this giant mess of a case, said, "Okay, can we go to our hotel now? I personally need a nap."

A/N: I know it's not Friday, but I figured since I finished this week's a bit early, I'd go ahead and put it up. Hope ya don't mind Glad you like Trunk, morriganscrow, there is quite a bit in store for our favorite baggage. I'm glad everyone seems to like it so far, please keep reading and reviewing, everyone.


	7. Part 7: The Trunk

-1Part 7: The Trunk

Reaching the hotel, the group could tell the day wasn't over yet as soon as they went to check in at the lobby. Hearing whose reservation it was, the receptionist looked very frightened and grabbed the phone to ring her manager, and a haggard and beaten looking bell boy jumped under a table. Harry wondered what was wrong, but Tonks only gave him a shrug and the others were busy looking at the basket of baked goods put out for the guests of the rather expensive hotel. After moments of employees scrambling about madly, a stocky, balding manager came jogging out to greet them.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Porter-ah, Potter, was it?" he asked, his face flushed red and breathing labored. "We seem to have had a bit of trouble with your luggage. Specifically, the large wooden crate the airport sent over. It seems that the box was, err…shaking and rattling a bit. Some of the bellhops were apparently worried some animal might be trapped inside. Something or other like that. Without consulting any of our managers, they took it upon themselves to open it, and ah…well, we're not exactly sure what happened. One of the boys still won't tell us what was in there or why he seems to be injured. The other…well, we haven't actually found him yet."

"Ah…" Harry said, exchanging a look of terror with Tonks. They both knew firsthand what had been in that crate, and didn't relish the thought of it loose and skulking about in a Manhattan hotel. The others were slightly confused, but Hermione caught the nervous attitude. Stepping close to Harry, she quietly asked exactly what was going on. Harry looked uncertain what to say, but after a glance at the hotel manager, he whispered, "Fred and George gave us a rather…interesting package before we left. Now, it might be loose in a hotel of Muggles. We're going to need to act right away. You're cleared by the Ministry to use Memory Charms, right?"

"Ah, technically," Hermione said, trying to process what she'd just been told. "I'm not certain if it applies outside of Britain, though. And there are quite a few people to be accounted for, not to mention the injuries that thing might have caused. We're going to have to contact the AMIA again, see if we can reach the Ministry, maybe even owl Fred and George…"

"That'll take way too long, 'Mione," Ron said, making the other two jump. They hadn't even noticed him joining the whispered conversation. "If the twins let loose another of their monsters, we're going to have to squash it before someone ends up torn to pieces or magically sent to Antarctica or some such."

Hermione started to protest, but Tonks cut in, "Ron's right. We're a group of top Aurors and two very good magical minds. We're more than enough to handle that…bit of storage space. Memory Charms are one thing, but can't allow any Muggle casualties. We're going up the our floor and hunting this thing down before it does anything too reprehensible."

Tonks didn't as certain as her words, still frightened by her earlier encounter with the demonic baggage, but Harry knew she was right. She had definitely earned her place as one of the highest ranking Aurors in Britain, and was a wonderful tactician. With fresh determination, Harry said, "Right, Hermione and Felipe will be in charge of damage control and dealing with any Muggle injuries. Tonks, Ron, and I will track this thing down. It's rather bulky, and reeks of magic, so it can't be any worse than chasing down a snitch, eh?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Most snitches don't have giant, sharp wooden teeth, do they?" Tonks asked sarcastically, but the fear they were all experiencing was evident in her voice. The elevator had seemed reluctant to go to the seventh floor, and had stopped at the fourth. Climbing the last flight of stairs, the Aurors noticed the lights had gone out on their floor. Exchanging meaningful glances, they all lit their wands with whispered spells before proceeding into the darkness.

"What sort of trunk is this, exactly?" Ron asked, his voice reaching that falsetto tone it only achieved in the face of some unknown magical evil. Harry took the point, his wand brandished in front of him to both light the way and be ready to cast a hex or curse. Of course, he wasn't sure what sort of spell would be best to use on a man-eating piece of luggage. Doors had been knocked open and furnishings covered the floor, but there was no sign of person or baggage in sight.

"Search the rooms, make sure no one's hurt," Harry said, knowing the other two would follow his direction. They had worked together as Aurors and for the Order long enough to coordinate well in dangerous situations. Harry continued down the hall, hoping neither of his friends would have to face the trunk first. Fred and George really hadn't been specific on the kind of havoc this thing could wreak, but it was already rather obvious the thing was dangerous.

A sudden crashing and rather familiar girlish screams brought Harry running back to one of the open hotel room doors. Harry held his wand aloft and increased the brightness of his spell till the whole room was lit like noonday. A second later, he sighed and let his arm flop back to his side. In front of him, Tonks was falling over laughing and Ron was currently locked in a death struggle with a large, rolling suitcase, and he didn't appear to be winning. Harry laughed and said, "Maybe I should have been more specific about which trunk we're looking for.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hermione harrumphed and slumped on a plushy couch next to Felipe. They had found as many of the Muggles that had run into the trunk as they could, fixed cuts, pulled splinters, and modified memories. She was certain quite a few more had run from the hotel in madness, but being in New York City, she doubted anyone would care about some random person running through the streets, screaming about mad luggage. Now, she and Phil were stuck on the fourth floor, wondering what was happening a few floors up.

"It's not fair that Harry sticks us down here," Hermione said, a bit more petulantly than she meant to sound. Phil looked at her with concern, but didn't say anything. He was still upset over an altercation with a rather angry Italian tourist who had had a deep cut along his arm. Apparently, Phil didn't appreciate the implications the man had made regarding his mother and a goat. Hermione, more to herself than her friend, continued, "I fought along with them in the Order. Just because I'm not an Auror, he thinks I shouldn't face down that…killer box or whatever it is with them."

"Um…" Felipe said, unsure at all how to respond, "The…the Order?"

"Hmm?" Hermione said, breaking out of her little bout of brooding. "Oh, the Order of the Phoenix. It's an ancient and somewhat unofficial group in Britain-"

"Oh!" Phil cut in, "Si, si, we heard about the Order in Mexico. The papers were very flattering of your group, and its help in defeating uh…him. You fought with them, Senora? I am very impressed."

"Oh, thank you, Felipe," Hermione said, smiling sweetly. She was glad to have something happier to talk about. "And you shouldn't worry about saying his name now. Voldemort's dead, and the British aren't afraid of him anymore."

"Ah, I see," Felipe said. He hadn't grown up with the fear of the British Dark Lord, but he had heard of their dislike for his name and any mention of it when he had first joined his government as a clerk. The fact that he was now traveling with some of the bravest and most famous wizards from the last war in England still amazed him. Grinning, he said, "I am proud to have met such great people since leaving home, and I am glad you are kind enough to bring me along. I am still so sorry about lying…"

"Oh, c'mon, Felipe," Hermione said, patting his shoulder, "You were just doing what you thought was best. If it wasn't for you, we might have never known about the problem in Mexico, and something even worse could have happened with that totem at the Ministry."

"Oh, ah," Felipe was suddenly sullen again. "That is…about the totem, and why I came. You see, it was…it happened a month ago and-"

"Wait," Hermione said, standing up, "did you just hear that? I could have sworn…c'mon."

"Ah," Felipe said, but after a moment, he followed Hermione down that hallway of the hotel. It was an oddly frightening place when it was deserted like this, and Phil didn't trust himself alone against…whatever it was they were afraid of at the moment. The two made their way through the hotel, when suddenly the lights on their floor started blinking wildly. A moment later, the light on the fourth floor was gone, too.

"Hmm," said Hermione, lighting her wand, "must be the magic coming from that trunk affecting the lights. All the electricity in the hotel will go out if we don't find that thing, soon."

Felipe, never having been in a combat situation, was too frightened to respond. He stayed about two inches from Hermione, nervously glancing back with the light from his wand every few seconds. Harry and Tonks had been the only ones to actually deal with this thing before, but from what they'd said, he really didn't want to run into it in a dark, empty hallway. Visions of huge, gnashing wooden teeth plagued him as Hermione led him to the sound she'd heard.

"There," she whispered, pointing her wand toward a large laundry bin. Sheets and towels covered the floor around it, and a distinct rustling was coming from inside. The sides of the bin were moving, and a steady, disgusting sound of wood tearing through cloth was the only sound they heard as they approached the bin. Hermione was sure the trunk was in there, now, doing something horrendous to the hotel laundry. Raising her wand, Hermione did the first thing that came to mind, saying, "Flipindo!"

The spell cut through the fabric of the bin, and out spilled a mountain of soiled sheets and a very surprised looking trunk. After a second, it got its feet back under it, and turned toward Hermione and Felipe. With a screech like un-oiled hinges grinding against each other, it ran at them. Hermione was desperately trying to think of some spell to use on a rampaging bag. Suddenly, Hermione felt herself pushed aside and saw the light of a spell being cast and Felipe shouting, "Cortar!"

The trunk backpedaled fast, its four clawed feet catching on the carpet and keeping the spell from hitting it by inches. Whimpering in sudden fear, the trunk turned itself around and bounded back in the other direction. Hermione, however, had gathered herself together enough to conjure ropes to tie down the trunk. Its lid snapped shut, and legs were pinned down, rendering it relatively harmless. Breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione beamed at Felipe and asked, "What sort of spell was that you used that scared it so?"

"Ah…" said a slightly embarrassed Felipe, "it was an old wood splitting spell I learned as a child. You do not grow up in the Yucatan without learning to split wood."

A few moments later, Harry, Tonks, and Ron came bounding down the hall, just as the lights were coming back up. Rushing toward them, Harry tried to speak, but was too winded to get anything out. Stopping to catch his breath, Harry noticed the now immobile trunk, and looked up to Hermione with a questioning look. With a smirk bordering on sarcastic, Hermione said, "No need to fear, Mr. Potter. The two desk jockeys took care of our little problem."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A/N: Sorry this week's update is a bit late. Well, actually, it's a day early, since I promised Friday updates, but I posted last week's chapter so early this one seems late. Hope this one doesn't feel off. I just started a new job (the nightmare of any fanfic writer) and had some trouble getting this one out. Thanks for the reviews, I'm glad everyone seems to like it. And I feel so stupid about misspelling Felipe for so long, but thanks so much for correcting me. I went back and fixed all previous chapters, so any spelling errors there should be gone, too. Please keep reading and reviewing, everyone.


	8. Part 8: The Girls

-1Part 8: The Girls

The next morning came as a mixed blessing to Harry. Subduing the mad trunk had been more of a challenge than he would have guessed, and dealing with all the Muggles in the hotel had taken well past midnight. He and the others had staggered to their rooms afterward, hoping that all the memory charms and made up stories would hold up. Opening his eyes to harsh sunlight, he knew wasn't even close to ready to face all of the new crap this day had in store.

Hermione had conjured a large crate to hold the muzzled trunk, which seemed to be moping now that its fun had been cut short. Harry was glad to see it starting to obey orders, as it climbed into the crate by itself after Harry asked and coaxed a few dozen times. After firmly nailing it shut, Ron asked why they were even bringing the thing with them. Hermione had been adamant that it was a dumb idea to bring the thing with them, but it was far too dangerous to leave now.

A quick shower and some new clothes did little to improve Harry's mood, but he figured some bad hotel coffee might wake him up a bit as he staggered down to the lobby. Tonks and Felipe were already there, having breakfast. Harry didn't ask, and really didn't want to know, where Ron and Hermione were. They'd had a room to themselves, and he was still fairly disgusted at the idea of his two best friends doing…things to each other.

"Oy, sleepyhead," Tonks called to Harry through her bagel, "I think those two friends of yours are still at it upstairs. Their bed hitting the wall woke me up this morning." Harry just grumbled, as Tonks knew just how uncomfortable thinking about Ron and Hermione like that made him. Pouring a cup of nearly solid black coffee, he thought to himself that Tonks was the kind of friend you could never ask for, mostly because you didn't want to. Felipe just turned a bit red and buried his head in the newspaper.

Tonks had had a room to herself last night while Harry had roomed with Felipe to "keep an eye on him", though it was general consensus that their luggage now posed more of a threat than their new friend ever would, so Harry figured that being woke by their friends' early morning coitus was only proper payback. Letting his cereal reach proper sogginess, Harry ignored Tonks's cheeky grin and turned to Phil. Having nothing better, he asked, "Sleep well, mate?"

"¿Que?" Phil looked over the edge of his paper. "Oh, si, si. Fine, this is…very nice hotel. Nothing so fine in Mexico."

"There are some pretty good resorts in Cancun," Tonks said, sipping her orange juice. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, but she just smiled enigmatically. There was no end to the depths of the mystery that was Nymphadora Lupin, he mused for not the first time. Still, for all the confusion she caused him, he loved the heck out of her, and would always trust his life to her in a bad situation.

"Ah, si, but Cancun is…eh, mostly for Americans," Felipe said, with the most sarcasm Harry had heard the man use in one sentence. Tonks snickered at the comment, and Felipe smiled, apparently pleased with himself. Harry was beginning to realize Felipe didn't interact with them much, not because of his English or cultural differences, but because he was just a shy man. A shy low level clerk with the Mexican magical government, Harry thought, what had made this man take so huge a risk as leaving his home and crossing the Atlantic just to contact him and his friends.

"Good morning, everyone," Hermione chirped as she joined them in the little breakfast nook. She seemed rather energetic and in seize-the-day mode compared to Ron, who slouched in yawning behind her. Even so, he was smiling as he viciously attacked a platter of sausages.

"Not so good when you wake up to a shaking bed and the muffled screams of ecstasy of two close friends…" Tonks mumbled, just loud enough for Hermione to hear. She went crimson and glared at Tonks as she cut into a grapefruit. Ron, as oblivious as ever, just looked up from his plate of meat with a confused look and incredibly full mouth. This was the last straw as Harry just broke down laughing, as Ron just looked even more clueless.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"So, the trunk is secured now?" Agent Kemper asked again. She had responded to the story of last night at the hotel with disbelief and horror, as could only be expected. Needless to say, her primary worry at the moment was the trunk's current location and the possibility of being digested by it.

"Ah, yeah," Harry said, slightly embarrassed. "We triple checked it, then made Ron poke the crate with a stick, just to be safe."

"Okay…" Kemper said, still unsure if she should call in a black-ops team to take care of it. Personally, she didn't like the idea of traveling with luggage that was trying to kill her. "Well, I used last night to pack my own effects and arrange our mode of travel. We'll be leaving this afternoon. I hope you and your friends won't mind me tagging along. I got the impression that Mrs. Weasley was rather…hesitant about it."

"Don't worry about Hermione," Harry said, not at all sure if she shouldn't be worrying. "We haven't even gotten the real details of this case yet. Until we reach Mexico, we're sort of winging it as far as procedure goes. Hermione isn't an Auror. She fought in the war, but she's been working a desk for years. She'll get used to how international missions like these work, soon enough."

"Oh, good," Kemper said, not at all reassured. The two of them were sitting again in her small cubicle as she hastily finished packing as many files as she could shove into her briefcase. Even with a magically enlarged interior, the case was groaning at the strain of carrying the sheer mass of paper she had in there, and Harry wondered how she was going to carry it all. As she managed to squeeze the lid close, Kemper looked to Harry and said, "Looks like I'm ready to go. Where are the others?"

"Harry!" Hermione called on cue, leading the others and a very tired Agent Hearn into the offices. The male agent had come round to apologize for the tough guy act the day before and show everyone around AMIA headquarters while Kemper finished getting ready. Harry had elected to just sit in the busy office, as it made him feel more at home, and because he still couldn't look Ron in the eye without giggling.

"Ah, 'Mione. What's wrong?" Harry asked, seeing the obvious scowl on his friend's face. He was pretty sure he knew what was coming, though.

"Can we go now, please," Hermione asked in a way that wasn't at all a question. "I've seen quite enough of how the Americans conduct business." Kemper gave Hearn a questioning glance, and he mumbled something about the detainee wing being a bad idea.

"Mrs. Weasley," Kemper said, standing and facing Hermione head on, "both of our superiors intend for this mission not only to help Mexico, but also to bolster relations between all three countries. I know political tensions are high right now, but I certainly have no intention of taking over or getting in the way of this investigation. Honestly, it will be an honor to me just to work with the heroes of the last great war in Britain."

Hermione looked at Kemper's offered hand for a moment, still a bit too worked up from her righteous indignation to take it right away. It was when the American agent said this last part and gave Harry an odd glance, that Hermione's anger was thrown into reverse. Harry, being Harry, hadn't noticed the woman's thoughtful look, as he waited expectantly for Hermione's response. He was more than a little surprised when Hermione took the woman's hand with a cheerful little smile.

"Of course, Agent Kemper," Hermione said, her desire to find Harry a woman overriding her vague anger at America. "It'll be a pleasure to work with you, as well."

"Please," Kemper said, "call me Andy."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"We're taking this?" Ron asked, both in fear and awe. Agent Kemper had taken them out of New York by taxi, after taking special precautions with the trunk, and they were now inside some large magical traffic control center. Not being used to American wizard habits, they had all been taken rather aback by the sight of a ten story tall bird inside the terminal. Felipe, on the other hand, was obviously excited at the sight, and Kemper just grinned at them

"Thunderbird," she said simply, "only way to travel cross country."

"Oh, I've heard of these," Hermione said, now looking as excited as Phil. "The Native Americans used to worship them. I remember reading about their usefulness for travel. They fly very high and make clouds with the beat of their wings, so Muggles can't see them from the ground."

"I have always dreamed of flying on one," Phil said to no one in general. He was in another one of his nerdy moments of glee, that Harry had thought till now only Hermione was capable of entering. The thunderbird was definitely impressive, with black feathers that shone brightly in the sunlight, and eyes of pure white that seemed to crackle with energy. It was resting now on a gigantic nest, as wizards on the platforms above them hurried about placing and securing a huge compartment onto its back that looked like it might fit twenty comfortably.

"Looks great, Andy," Harry said to the American agent, who gave him a warm smile. This didn't pass Hermione's attention, and her scheming side again went into high gear. After a half hour of waiting for the bird to be prepared, and assuring Ron it was much safer than a plane, it was time to go. Harry's comment about it being better than riding a thestral hadn't helped very much, but Tonks found it amusing. They finally climbed the stairs to board with the other passengers.

"We'll be taking this to Texas," Andy said as they waited for an older couple to decide who should go first, either out of chivalry or fear. "There's a portkey scheduled for us there, that'll take us directly to Mexico City."

"Mexico City?" Harry asked. "I thought we were headed to the Yucatan to deal with the New Sun."

"Our bosses decided we needed to report to the headquarters of the Magia Militar directly," Andy said, not looking very happy about it. "They want to talk to us, and especially Felipe."

Everyone glanced at their Mexican friend, who would have swallowed nervously if his mouth hadn't gone so dry all of a sudden. They boarded the bird in silence, surprised again to see that it wasn't set up in the efficient and utilitarian method of the Muggle airlines, but rather had individual compartments, much like the Hogsmeade Express. Harry almost felt nostalgic.

"You boys take this one," Hermione said, ushering the three men into a compartment before they even realized they were moving. "The girls need a little alone time," she said, with a smile that deeply unnerved Ron and Harry. Phil was still unnerved about other things.

"What…uh," Harry stuttered, "What do you think they're gonna talk about?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A/N: Hooray, I managed to finish another chapter despite my darn job, and I actually rather like this one. Hope you guys do as well. Thanks again for reading, and as always, I appreciate any and all reviews.


	9. Part 9: The Bird

-1Part 9: The Bird

"Nothing good, mate," Ron said, obviously frightened. "Nothing good ever comes of women talking in private. Last time Ginny shooed me out of the room at the Burrow so she, Mom, and Hermione could talk, it was decided for me that I couldn't put up any Chudley Cannons posters in our flat."

In the next compartment, Hermione sat a confused Agent Kemper in one of the seats, then took one across from her, beside Tonks. The two British witches looked at the other girl appraisingly for a moment, before Hermione said, "So, what do you think of Harry?"

"Ah," Kemper croaked, very taken aback by the question, "ah…what do you mean?"

"Well," Hermione said, putting on her most charming smile, "you two were talking very nicely yesterday and today, and I've noticed you looking at him from time to time. I was just wondering what you thought of Mr. Potter."

Kemper struggled with an answer for a few more seconds, only to be caught off guard as the Thunderbird suddenly lurched, standing in its nest, and spreading its gigantic wings in preparation to take off. Tonks lost it at the look on the American's face and went into a fit of giggles. Hermione's reproachful pinch only made her laugh harder. Kemper's eyes widened as she noticed the color of Tonks's hair shine brighter with her laughing, to an almost neon red hue.

"Are you a, uh, metamorphmagus? I've never met one before" Kemper asked, now noticing that her hair was also longer than it had been yesterday.

"Oh, yes," Tonks said. Her giggling subsided, but she still wore a large grin. Hermione only huffed.

"Enough of that, Tonks" she said sternly, losing her friendly demeanor. "Andy has a question to answer. Andy, what is that short for?"

"Oh, Andrea," Kemper said. She was very uneasy with Mrs. Weasley's sudden inquisition. Whether just to embarrass her or for more sinister reasons, Andy didn't feel at all comfortable talking about her possible romantic interest in Harry Potter. No matter what that interest actually was, she thought. No, it didn't help thinking like that. She'd grown up hearing tales of his various amazing accomplishments, and he was now the most well known wizard in the world. An older, anonymous agent with the American wizarding government didn't exactly fit as a potential love interest.

"So, Andrea," Hermione said, her eyes glinting with a predatory look. "Do you happen to have a boyfriend?"

"Ah, no, not at the moment," Andy said, her discomfort reaching new, unknown heights. Her interrogation instincts kicked in, and she decided to tactfully guide the subject elsewhere, saying, "I know you two are married, but why don't you tell me more about yourselves. Why do you go by your maiden name, Tonks?"

"Because my mother has no taste or common sense," Tonks said, rolling her eyes. "I thought it was a bit odd myself to go by the name after the marriage, but I refuse to go by…well, you know. Plus, quite a few of our friends already call my husband Lupin. So, Tonks just stuck."

Hermione was a bit annoyed at Andy managing to draw Tonks into a conversation, but she reassured herself. The direct approach was obviously scaring the girl off, and this way she could find out a bit more about her. Make sure she was indeed appropriate for her best friend. Freshly determined, she said, "Yes, I don't think we could call her anything else, unless we wanted to really annoy her. We both found our husbands the same way, really. I almost grew up with Ron, knowing him throughout school, but it wasn't until we dedicated ourselves totally to the Order that our relationship bloomed."

"That's true," Tonks said, "I never thought of it that way. If it weren't for the Order, I never really would have gotten to know Remus. I guess the war changed some of our lives for the better. It's too bad it didn't work out for Harry that way."

"How do you mean?" Andy asked, not being able to help herself. She dreaded the subject switching back to Harry, but she was honestly curious about the man. What healthy witch wouldn't, she thought. Darn it, stop that, Andy.

"Oh," Tonks said, reddening a bit, "I think that's more Harry's story to tell. He was with a girl, before and during the war. His unfortunate need to be in the middle of the whole mess strained that relationship, though. They loved each other, but Harry couldn't stand to have someone so close in the thick of battle, and she was just as determined to be next to him."

"Oh," Andy said, unsure if she was more jealous or sad at the thought, "Did she…in the war, did-?"

"Oh, oh no," Hermione said, sensing Andy's implied question. "Ginny's fine. She was hurt a few times in battle, and Harry blamed himself for every injury. The two of them fought a lot during those months. Then, after the war, after all the fighting, it seemed to end between them for good."

"Oh," Andy said, very unsure what to think. She knew it was very unfair that Harry had gone through all he did, but war was terrible for everyone involved. If it hadn't been for him, who knows what might have happened. It might have spread to America, soon enough. She wondered if it had been worth the cost to him, though, and wondered if he ever thought the same thing. All right, she had to admit, she did have a bit of interest in the man. They were on a mission, though, and that had to be her first priority.

Reaching for her large bag, Andy took out several of the files she'd compiled on this case before leaving the office. She always felt better looking through documents, as they seemed to help organize her thoughts. There wasn't a file to help sort out her rather inappropriate interest in one of her coworkers, however. Instead, she turned to the file on the totem that had attacked the Ministry, and read the small bit of information they had on the creatures.

"I'm afraid my life isn't quite that interesting," Andy said, smiling slightly, "this is actually my first time out of country. I'm actually surprised they assigned me to such a high profile case, and I really didn't mean to make you think I was trying to take everything over, Mrs. Weasley. I know you have political objections, but I promise my only intention is to help all of you as best I can."

Hermione frowned, realizing for the first time how badly she had been acting toward their new companion. First, blowing up at her with political accusations, and then blind-siding her with questions about Harry. She realized, now, that looking at her files was actually a nervous habit, much like Hermione's own reading habits. She had to remember that this mission was why they were here, and they certainly couldn't do it by putting Andy on edge and unable to think. Reaching out a hand to the other witch, Hermione gave her a reassuring pat and said, "I'm sure you'll do great."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Pair of kings," Harry said, laying down his cards. After the guys had gotten used to the gentle up and down swaying of the Thunderbird in flight, the conversation dried up, and they'd decided to play a bit of poker with a deck of cards Harry had picked up in New York. Ron had been confused by their difference from wizard cards.

"Poker just isn't as exciting without the occasional explosion," Ron pouted, laying down his three of a kind. A sudden shuddering through the cabin got Ron nervous. He asked, "Are you sure that bloody trunk isn't going to escape again?"

"It's fine, just the thunder from the bird's wings flapping," Harry said. He sighed when Phil laid down a straight. The game wasn't going his way. Looking at the still nervous Ron, he said, "Muggles don't really need the explosions to make poker interesting. It's really just an excuse to gamble."

"Gambling, eh?" Ron said, reaching for his bag to look for some stray sickles or knuts. He sighed when he came up with nothing and leaned back in his seat. Within moments, he was asleep. Harry chuckled, just another or Ron's talents. Turning to Phil, he saw the older man shuffling the cards deftly.

"Where'd you learn to play, Felipe?" Harry asked. "You're pretty good."

"Oh, ah," Phil started, "My father…he taught me when I was young. He, he said it was a…gentleman's game. Mi madre, mother, sorry. My mother, she disapproved, told my father that the priest said poker was a sin. My father taught me anyhow. My mother was a, you say…Muggle, and very strict Catholic. My father, though, my father was different. He was a…big man. Everyone loved him, gathered around him. He was a good man."

Felipe was smiling slightly, but there was a deep sadness in his voice. Harry wondered what it was about his past that hurt his friend. All he knew was that whatever problems Phil had, they seemed to center around his father. Even so, he spoke of the man with a deep respect, almost awe. Harry realized just how much he didn't know about the man. He determined then to get to know Felipe well, if only to pay the man back in some way for risking so much to help him and his friends.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A/N: Thanks for reading, folks. To those who reviewed, thanks again, and I'm glad you liked this chapter better. I'm very flattered you like the story so much, morriganscrow, your encouragement means a lot. To anyone else reading, please review, I appreciate any and all support and would love more feedback.


	10. Part 10: The Border

-1Part 10: The Border

"No, um…I have it here, I know it," Andy said, struggling with her multitude of paperwork. The border guard looked very unimpressed. The group was crossing into by way of a magically hidden outpost in Texas, but it seemed American wizards loved paperwork just as much as the Muggles. Andy was now searching for all the files that would let them into Mexico and get them transportation on to Mexico City.

"Err, is it in the red folder?" Harry asked, picking through some of the things she'd already discarded.

"No, I checked that," Andy said, her head almost disappearing into her bag in her desperate search. It didn't appear to be going well. Felipe took sympathy on Andy and, feeling a bit more at ease with someone from his own country, he explained their problem to the guard in Spanish. The man's expression didn't change, but he began conversing with Felipe. Ron sighed and promptly fell asleep in his chair at the back of the small office.

"What about one of these pink ones?" Hermione asked, looking over the American witch's shoulder and reaching into the bag. Andy gave a yelp and snapped the case shut suddenly, making Hermione jump in alarm before her fingers were caught.

"No, um, ah…" Andy stammered, suddenly blushing, "those, those are something else." Everyone just stared at her, causing her to lower her head almost to the guard's desk as her blush deepened. Felipe and his new friend, who also happened to be from eastern Mexico, had no idea what was going on and promptly went back to their conversation. Hermione's interest was piqued, but Harry continued looking through folders, feeling that he wasn't being very helpful.

"Pink is an interesting color," Hermione said dryly, continuing her own search for their papers.

"I have a, uh…system," Andy said, trying to swallow despite a suddenly dry throat. Hermione smiled, but she hoped it didn't look too much like a smirk. They had talked on the long flight down, and Hermione had grown to like the woman, and would be genuinely happy to see something between the woman and her ever unlucky in love best friend.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

In Mexico, a tastefully and expensively furnished office was bathed in the light of the setting sun. A large man in a well-groomed suit stood watching the city through the half drawn blinds. He smoked a cigar that claimed to be from Cuba but was most likely Dominican or even Haitian. Behind him, a thinner man was seated at the large, mahogany desk, currently wondering how it was that every time this particular man came to visit him, it no longer seemed to be the thin man's office.

"This situation has become ridiculously dangerous to the both of us, Marco," the big man said, watching the city grow from orange to red with the coming of the evening. He had a special appreciation for the sun, and how it bathed the world. Its light could effect the entire world's appearance, its mood, but no one ever seemed to appreciate the power it had over their lives. The heathens all took the sun for granted. It was why he had decided they no longer deserved it.

"We're aware of the threat, Senor," Marco said, wishing his voice would not betray his fear of the other man.

"And yet you sit in your office, smoking bad cigars with your friends, playing make believe with the people outside your window," the man said, watching the people on the street below, dodging past cars, selling things no one needed from carts. He had no respect for any of them, least of all Marco. His plans were too long in preparation for him to just watch them unravel. If Marco could keep this so-called threat at bay, he might even be worth keeping alive.

"The pawns are in place," Marco said, his anger growing with his fear, "You know as well as I the king does not move unless directly threatened."

"I find it amusing you consider yourself a 'king', Marco," the man said turning from the window with a very feral grin.

"Need I remind you that it wasn't my fault that this child threatens your evil ambitions in the first place?" Marco asked sarcastically, letting his anger get the better of him. He flinched slightly, afraid of an immediate attack. The smile left the other man's face.

"I know your mind is limited," he growled, "but I wouldn't have thought even you capable of deluding yourself into believing you're more intelligent than me." The man crushed the stub of his cigar in the ash tray and walked slowly to the door. He opened the door, and without bothering to look back, said, "Take care of Potter or you're dead, Marco. It's that simple."

Marco slumped in his chair as the door slammed shut. He had been fairly certain he was about to be killed, and was rather relieved to still be breathing. This entire fiasco was idiotic, he thought yet again, lighting another cigar and putting it out again before even taking a pull. Some clerk in the Militar had gone rushing off to Britain, and they had sent a powerful magic creature of death after him to scare off the Potter boy. The whole thing had blown up in their faces, and somehow it fell to Marco to fix, as always.

"Beatriz," Marco said, pushing the intercom on his desk, "contact Senor Hernandez and be sure he won't screw up his one, very simple task." He had been the one to stop the Militar from taking down the lunatic native and his cult. Now, he was being threatened with death if he didn't stop these children from Britain. In Marco's opinion, it was the Mayan who was in his debt.

"Si, Senor Sangria," came the voice from the other room.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"That was interesting," Harry said, walking down the unpaved street of the small Mexican border town.

"I think the Mexicans have a weird definition of 'cavities'," Ron grumbled, still not walking correctly.

"Just be glad Felipe went to compulsory school with that official back there," Hermione said, picking daintily at a roasted corn she'd had her husband buy for her.

"I'm still amazed by the coincidence," Phil said, rather happy he had been of use, and enjoying the more familiar feel of the city, despite the large number of tourists this close to the border. The others all seemed to be quite a bit happier now that they'd finally reached their destination. Sort of. They were almost there, anyhow, Harry thought. Only Agent Kemper seemed to be in bad spirits, still embarrassed about the whole fiasco with the papers.

"At least it worked out," Harry said, looking at Andy. She saw him smile at her, and gave a shy grin back. He was really very nice for someone so famous, she thought. If only his friends were that way, she thought ruefully of Hermione's repeated nosiness. At least she hadn't gotten her pink folders, which Andy was now beginning to regret putting in her case in the first place.

"It is wonderful that we arrived when we did," Phil said suddenly, earning some odd looks. "In a few days, it shall be Dia de Los Muertos. I would have hated to have been away from my family, then."

"Oh, Halloween," Hermione said, smiling at the thought, "I'd almost forgotten in all the excitement. British wizards celebrate the day, too, but nothing compared to Mexico, I've heard."

"My home town has a wonderful festival," Phil said, more excited than they'd ever seen him. "I will be happy to show you all around, if you have time before starting your investigation."

"Our.." Harry said, confused, "You're not coming with us, Phil?"

"Senor Potter," Phil said, suddenly rather subdued, "surely you know I can not join you after we speak with my superiors. They will most likely, ah…what is the word, fire me. Even if I still have my job, I am only a clerk."

"Oh," Harry said, realizing for the first time the real implication of what Phil had done. He hadn't even considered finishing this job without the man, even after they'd been told of his deception. Frankly, Harry had been glad he had done it, and would have done the same. "Well…we'll just have to tell your bosses we'll be needing a clerk on this case, won't we?"

"Senor," Felipe said, overcome by Harry's generosity. He had never met anyone who would go so far out of their way just for him, let alone someone so famous, so great. So…like his father. Phil didn't look forward to that coming conversation. Even worse, he seriously doubted the Militar would let him join his new friends in their journey, even at Harry Potter's request.

"We'll figure it out," Harry said with his trademark naive confidence. He always had the odd ability to both inspire and exasperate those around him.

"And you always have that man eating trunk if they say no," Ron said. Harry wasn't especially grateful for the reminder of the murderous thing, still in its shrunken box placed carefully in the duffel bag he always traveled with. He wasn't as good as Hermione at keeping up with all the crappy variables that tended to spring up on a bad case.

A small cantina in one of the better parts of town served as their rest stop for the evening before retiring to their reasonably good looking hotel. Mexico wasn't a very rich country, but the wizarding community always managed to get by all right, even the poorer families, and were always rather happy and clean people. Harry sat nursing something with lemon and a wizard's version of tequila. He wasn't sure if there was any actual difference, except the worm in his bottle was glowing a bright green.

"Andy is a nice girl," Hermione commented off hand, sipping her own drink. Kemper had already retired for the evening, and Hermione had sent Ron on ahead so she could have a "talk" with Harry, as she put it. She had hoped that Tonks would leave them as well, but she had decided earlier in the evening that she would not allow Harry to out drink her again. It was just as well, Hermione thought, as Tonks would surely be on her side.

"Yep," Harry said, rendered monosyllabic by his slight buzz. "Wish she hadn't taken the whole…passport thing so hard. Need to..need to tell her she's a lot of help to us."

"Oh, yes," Hermione said, hiding her annoyance at his drunken state. "You should definitely tell her how much you like having her along, Harry."

"Yeah, err…" Harry started, his thoughts now jumbling a bit. "Um, hmm? Oh, no. What…What do you mean by that?"

"You are so pissed, Harry," Tonks laughed, not terribly sober herself. "She's tryin' to set ya up with the Yank."

"Tonks," Hermione snapped. She disliked her friends getting so drunk while they were working and the fact that they were still able to see through her ulterior motives.

"Oh, c'mon, 'Mione," Harry reprimanded, doing his best to cut through the fog. "We're…we're out here working, ya know? You need to let up on that stuff."

"Maybe we should discuss this after you've slept it off," Hermione said, somewhat defeated. She was never easily swayed, but even she could see the futility of trying to change Harry's mind on his love life while he was faced.

"Aw, Harry, she's just tryin' to get ya laid," Tonks said, finished off her rum and coke. They had a very good brand straight from Cuba here.

"Well," Harry said, sexual thoughts overpowering his hindered brain, "can't really…argue with that."

"I don't think a one night stand with a partner while on a mission is appropriate," Hermione said, not believing a woman older than her and married was being so crass, even when drunk and among friends.

"Ah, you're just…" Tonks gathered her wits for a moment, "you're just jealous you're not…doin' it yerself."

"Nymphadora," Hermione said quietly, the chill in her voice cutting straight through Tonks's buzz. She straightened up a bit, shrugging off her momentary anger at the use of her first name. It only showed her she'd gone too far. Drunk or not, she didn't want to hurt a friend.

"Sorry, 'Mione," Tonks said, somewhat sheepishly. "Just, just joking."

"That was over the line," Hermione said, all patience now gone. She signaled for the check and got out her purse. "You've both had far too much. You're going back to the hotel to sleep it off, and I for one won't be brewing any draughts for your hangovers in the morning. Harry, be sure you take care of that trunk before you go to sleep. Even miniaturized, it might bite off a few fingers."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, his head sinking slowly to rest comfortably on the cool table. He wondered if he'd manage to gather the energy to actually sit upright again before morning.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A/N: Sorry for being a bit late this week. I was worried I wouldn't get this in till Saturday, as I had to close a few nights this week. The absolute worst part of retail work, honestly. Hope the drinking wasn't too much of a cheap joke, but I at least did you all the service of foregoing the usual slurring P I also made sure to write a bit more, as I understand what you mean, morrigan. This fic is oddly episodic, even for me. As always, please read and review everyone. I always appreciate everything.


	11. Part 11: The Meeting

-1Part 11: The Meeting

Harry woke in the morning with his mouth achingly dry and his head pounding. He cursed the sun for existing, and got his things ready to travel by Portkey to Mexico City. He was wary of the trunk, which rattled around in its tiny crate, apparently very offended at being shrunk down. Maybe he'd just carry it at normal size after this last little jump of their trip.

Everyone gathered to go after a small, much too spicy breakfast. Hermione seemed rather put out, especially with Tonks. Harry had a vague sense that something dumb had happened last night after he'd gotten pissed, but he avoided bringing it up as he had the feeling it had to do with Hermione trying to find women for him again. Agent Kemper's name might have come up, but his head hurt too hard to concentrate on the memory.

"Let's get this over with," Tonks said, a hand trying to keep her head from bursting open. Hermione just sighed as they headed to the two story, stucco building they were told had the portkey they needed. Felipe was their liaison with all the officials now that English wasn't the primary language. He spoke with several dour looking wizards as they made their way along, until they finally came to a large room with several areas marked off for apparition and a large pile of various objects for turning into portkeys.

"Buenos dias," said the rather attractive Mexican girl that greeted them. "I am glad to help the American government, and the famous wizards from England. Step this way, and I can activate the key that will take you to Mexico City."

Phil and Ron almost choked on their own drool as the witch turned with a flick of her long hair, and led them to an old tire on a small table. Hermione punched Ron in the arm, bringing him back from his momentary male reaction to a beautiful woman. Tonks laughed, but immediately regretted it as it brought the hangover back full force. She whispered to Harry, "You should pay attention to women more."

"Like Ron?" He whispered back. "Thanks, but I don't like getting hit by Hermione either." The witch gestured for them to spread out around the tire. They all took hold, and the girl took out a small piece of parchment that had the incantation for activating the key on it. She did so many of these in a day, she could never keep track of all the random things they came up with for security reasons.

"I think Hermione wants you to leer like an idiot," Tonks retorted. "It might show us you're still alive." Agent Kemper overheard this last part and blushed a bit. She wondered what it was Harry Potter's female friends wanted from him. They were both married, but seemed very interested in his love life, or lack thereof. She hadn't noticed him looking at any women with anything beyond polite kindness, and he was a very nice person. Maybe he just hadn't been looking at her, but she was an attractive woman, she thought. Wasn't she.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Welcome," said a very jovial Mexican wizard in brightly colored robes. "It is an honor to have Senor Harry Potter and his friends in Mexico City. We shall show you our great city, and give you the best of accommodations."

"Ah, thanks," Harry grunted, disentangling himself from the rest of his friends. It seemed Felipe hadn't taken well to portkey travel, and had managed to trip up Ron, which caused a chain reaction of limbs flying everywhere. The others eventually got to their feet and greeted their host, noticing the two large wizards flanking him, obviously bodyguards.

"I am, ah," he paused for a moment to look for the word, "like your Minister. I am el Secretario de Majia, Jose Milagro, one of the chief leaders of the wizards in our country. In a moment, we will ask you to join a meeting with our government's cabinet and some of the leaders of our families-"

"Wait," Harry said, not able to stop himself from interrupting, "I thought we would be dealing directly with the Militar on this case. When will we be meeting with them?"

"As, si," Milagro said, "the Militar is a, ah, police body. Like your Aurors. They will give you information dealing with el Nuevo Sol, but we thought it best if we gave you a full welcome."

"Oh, all right," Harry said. He understood politicians always being worried about appearances, but he thought it odd the Militar wasn't even greeting them. He looked around, and noticed they were in a large, very sunny room. The walls were painted brightly and decorated with antiques and ancient tapestries that moved, showing tiny people going about long forgotten customs.

"Come, come," Milagro said. "You must all be hungry and wanting to see the city. We will offer you our best while we wait for our other guests. Senor Mercador, please go to the first floor. Your father is waiting for you there."

"Phil?" Ron said, who had just been asking his friend about one of the statues. Phil looked apologetically at his friends, and started to walk toward one of the lifts down a small side hall. Harry told him they'd see him soon, which made the secretary harrumph to himself quietly. They all waved as Felipe walked away, and followed Milagro to a large doorway, and into a very well laid out meeting room with quite a few delicious looking platters laid out.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Felipe, there you are," said Marcos Mercador, looking up from a conversation he was having from a much younger girl working in the office. Phil wasn't particularly looking forward to this, as his relationship with his father had never been sterling. He had spent his life trying to live up to expectations, and he knew that he'd now lost all chance of that.

"Hola, papa," Phil said, looking at the floor. Even in his fifties, Marcos was one of the best in the Militar in the country. Until recently, anyhow. "Como estas?"

"Ah, not so good, mijo," his father said, his voice already taking on its lecture tone. Phil suddenly felt fifteen years old again. "Your sisters have missed you. We were worried something had happened to you."

"I know, sir," Phil said, not able to look his father in the eye, "I…sorry."

"Why did you leave your job like that? I hear you got entangled with the Nuevo Sol in England."

"I, I know," Phil said. He had trouble speaking to his father, but he knew this was the one person he had to make understand. Harry, his friends, even Agent Kemper had forgiven his misdeed and even treated him as an equal. He couldn't bring himself to tell them why he had really gone, why he had lied. "It was my fault…I had to go."

"What was, Felipe?" Marcos asked, curious instead of angry now.

"I was the one…at the Militar, who told my superiors that we needed Senor Potter." He choked back his emotion, knowing breaking down wouldn't help him in front of his father. "No one would listen to me, and I insisted that he would be able to stop the cult. Then, they discovered one of our operatives was part of them, and had been keeping us on the wrong track. He had heard what I said, and left his post to tell the rest of the Sol they needed to take care of Harry."

"Is that it?" Marcos asked, pondering now. He hadn't heard all of this from his friends still in the Militar. "You know, Felipe, it hasn't been easy since Sangria and his supporters managed to cripple our operation. All of those wizards out of service now. The family is lucky they gave me a good severance, but we were relying on your income to help with your sisters' education."

"I'm sorry, sir," Phil said, feeling drained after saying everything. He had glossed over the details of the incident, but his father was the only person he had told so far. "I had to. I was worried they would kill Harry Potter, and it would have been my fault, papa."

"Ah, Felipe," Marcos said, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. "It's good to see you home."

Phil nodded, somewhat relieved to see his father wasn't angry over what he'd done. The two of them walked toward the door, leading to the street of the small, well hidden back alley location of wizard business in Mexico City. Any Muggles that attempted to find their way there always found themselves quite lost and eventually in front of a small tamale stand on the outskirts of the city.

"And you know, son," Marcos said, opening the door for Phil to walk through, "I'm proud of you."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Ah, Senor Potter," said a man as he swept into the room, followed by his own bodyguard. Harry wondered if Mexico was really so dangerous that everyone of any clout needed so much protection. All of the other people they had met so far seemed to have a much larger, very silent man in tow. "I am glad to see you have arrived in Mexico safely."

"Senor Sangria," the secretary greeted, showing almost as much fake cheer as he'd put on when Harry and the others had arrived. Kemper leaned over and whispered to them that this was the man she'd mentioned in New York, who had personally begun a campaign that left the Militar unable to do its job.

"I hear," Sangria started, as he sat down across from Harry at the table, "that one of the Militar has brought you all this way. It is nice to see such a hero in our country, but I am sorry it was for nothing."

"It wasn't for nothing," Harry said, not at all interested in the man's charm. He was immediately reminded of Lucius Malfoy in his hay day. That, and Sangria's involvement with the deconstruction of the Militar made him rather suspect in this case. "The New Sun cult attacked me and my friends in our home. Frankly, I'm happy Felipe risked all he did just to let us know who was responsible."

"Yes," Sangria said, his smile losing a bit of its edge, "we are sorry for all the trouble you have been caused. The Militar is a somewhat inept organization. They can't find the real criminals, and yet find time to bother the great houses of Mexico no end of trouble. I have been leading a campaign for reform among them myself. They will give you no more problems, I assure you."

"Well, it's hard to catch any criminals when your workforce has been cut in half," Andy said, maybe a bit louder than she should have.

"Agent Kemper, yes?" Sangria said. "I assure you, the changes we have called for are in Mexico's best interest. None of you will have to worry about the Nuevo Sol again."

"I know," Harry said, "That's why we accepted the Militar's offer to help with the investigation. We might have come here under odd means, but we intend to help any governments in need when assistance is asked for."

"I see," Sangria said, his cold smile gone completely now. He slowly drained a glass of very red wine, his eyes never leaving Harry's. This would be more complicated than any of them had thought.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A/N: This chapter was a bit off the cuff. Hope the quality is still up there. I now have a bit better picture of where I'll be taking this, and there will definitely be a bit more action after this. Thanks again for reading, and I always appreciate any reviews.


	12. Part 12: The Trap

-1Part 12: The Trap

It was a hot night in Mexico City. The streets were crowded with cars, and people milling about their business even now, so long after the sun had set. This wasn't a nice city, and the people there were vary aware of the chance they were taking being out so late, or else they were the sort making everyone else so nervous. Crime was everywhere, violence and sex filled the alleys and dark shadows, but not all the evil that night was happening down on the streets.

"Mr. Potter is a rather…abrasive fellow, yes?" said Secretary Milagro, watching Sangria as he wrote furiously on a notepad. They had retired to Milagro's office after bidding Harry and friends good day, though so far it hadn't been so much a meeting as Sangria taking over the Secretary's office to quickly sort out plans. Milagro looked on as Sangria sat at his desk, ignoring yet another attempt by the politician to break the uncomfortable silence. He wished the man would leave, as he rather missed his big, leather chair.

"All the more reason to be gracious hosts," Sangria said after several minutes. It took Milagro a minute to realize he was responding to what he'd said, as Sangria took the parchment he'd just finished and readied to send it off with another of the Secretary's private screech owl messengers. So far, Sangria had sent out nearly a dozen of the small birds but this would be the last. He stretched slowly, working out the knots that had formed from a few hours of scheming.

"Ah, yes," Milagro nodded eagerly, "um, what do you mean?"

"Hmm?" Sangria looked at the stubby politician as if he'd just noticed him in the room, and wasn't very pleased about it. "Oh, yes, Milagro. Don't concern yourself with details you likely wouldn't understand. All I mean is that you should continue letting the foreigners walk all over you, and give them no reason to leave Mexico City."

"But, ah," the Secretary started, wilting slightly under Sangira's gaze, "Mr. Potter seemed rather intent on going to the Yucatan. That is where they were going, wasn't it?"

"That's why they won't be leaving," Sangria said firmly, making sure the point penetrated Milagro's skull.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Mosquitoes sucked, Harry determined astutely. He had his own room in a very nice hotel in Mexico City, whose idea of central air was to open the windows to a non-existent breeze and all the insects in the country. He wondered if the others were fairing any better, and figured Hermione had probably thought of some ingenious mosquito warding charm. Too bad it was too late to go ask what it might be, and even if she and Ron were awake, he didn't want to know what they were doing.

It had been a long night, and they hadn't escaped Secretario Milagro even after their meeting. There was a large dinner that evening, with even more people to be introduced to. He just hoped nothing was planned for the morning. Mexico City was a beautiful place, even at night, with the exotic lights and places that still seemed familiar, somehow. Harry had been glad when they retired to the exquisite hotel booked for them, but its lack of certain amenities, was rather apparent.

"Damn," he said, tossing in bed again and finally kicking the covers completely off. It was not a nice night, and he wasn't sure about tomorrow. They'd seen Felipe and his father at dinner, but hadn't gotten a chance to talk with all the politicians and suck ups nosing around. Harry was just glad Phil hadn't left for home yet, as he'd been invited to stay in Mexico City for a day or two as well. Tomorrow, he'd have to figure out how to get to the Yucatan and the Militar while keeping Phil on the case.

Swatting another mosquito, Harry realized now wasn't the time to worry about details. An odd thought hit him suddenly, and he almost wished he had that murderous trunk around to take care of the bugs. It was full-sized and chained up in a basement somewhere, though. Secretary Milagro had assured him they would deal with it. Wait, they struck something in Harry's mind and managed to shake loose a good idea.

Getting up rather gratefully from his sweaty bed covers, Harry made his way through the near dark produced by a large city that never completely stopped. He was sure that box was in his duffel bag somewhere. There it was, inscribed with Weasley Wizarding Wheezes emblem, which included two small versions of the twins laughing as they chased and hexed a rather ridiculous looking Dark Lord across the letters that made up the name of their shop.

"Let's see," Harry said, as he took out the small, wind-up bird they had given him for just such a purpose. He found the key in the box and wound the machine, watching as it slowly opened and stretched its delicate wings. It rather reminded him of a snitch, Harry thought, as he released the now hopping bird into his hotel room. It zipped around with almost no sound, snatching up mosquitoes happily.

Harry smiled as he watched it fly about, taking care of the bugs and brightening his mood, as well. The twins really did make some amazing things. Grabbing a glass and bottle of scotch from the lavish bar in a corner of the room, Harry poured himself a finger and settled into one of the chairs set around an ornate table. It really was quite a hotel room, he thought, wondering if he could get his apartment to look a bit classier whenever he got back to London.

A sudden sound of crunching metal and whirring gears that sounded a bit too much like distressed bird chirps caught Harry's attention. The wind-up bird was no longer flitting around the room, and he wondered if it might have run into a wall. Getting up to look around, Harry was startled to see a four foot snake by the edge of his bed, biting fruitlessly at the now broken machine. Harry pulled his wand from the inlaid pocket designed to hold it secure in his pajama bottoms. Catching the movement, the serpent reared up from it kill and hissed menacingly at Harry.

"Immobulus," Harry said by instinct, freezing the snake in mid lunge. It wouldn't have reached him from across the room, but he still felt adrenaline rush his body in response to the attempted attack. He levitated the snake into the air and turned it about, realizing he had no idea what species it was. The rather vivid red skull pattern in the scales around its head told him it was magical, though. Using Parsletongue, Harry asked, "Who sent you?"

"Die, human," it hissed back, obviously not the friendly sort. Harry knew that poisonous species, as this one appeared to be by the shape of its skull, were harder to deal with than others, but this one was just nasty. It continued to curse him as it wrestled in midair, trying to free itself from his spell.

"Magical snakes don't just end up in a person's eighth floor hotel room, now tell me who sent you before I use a more painful hex," Harry said, serious now. This was definitely some planned attack, most likely another attempt by the New Sun. He wondered if they knew he was a Parsletongue when they sent this viper. It looked surprised by his threat, but after a moment continued to curse him, demanding to be set free. Talking was going to answer anything here, he realized.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"A red fanged viper," Hermione said, holding up a picture in her reference book that showed a rather detailed drawing of a snake just like the one Harry had found. "Deadliest magical snake in existence. Bites kill instantly, no chance for administering anti-venom."

"Nasty," Harry said, looking at the unconscious and prone snake. He'd woken the other minutes before, and they all roused quickly at the news of an attack. Now, they were gathered in Hermione's and Ron's room so she could look up the species, and they could decide what had happened. Harry yawned and said, "Well, we can't just let it outside. Might kill someone."

"Oh, stop being nonchalant," Tonks said, annoyed. "An attempt was just made on your life, you could at least be a little flustered."

"You get used to it after awhile," he smirked, and looked at the other, but they didn't seem to find it funny. Hermione frowned and Andy just looked worried. Ron snored and fell over, waking himself up for the third time. Uncomfortable, Harry continued, "Anyway, he refuses to talk, so I can't get a name. The best guess is the New Sun is at it again."

"How could they have found out we were here so quickly?" Andy asked, obviously upset. "Do you think they could have tracked our flight on the thunderbird? Oh, I knew I shouldn't have rushed."

"Oh, come now," Hermione admonished, patting the woman on the shoulder. "This is hardly your fault. Even if they knew how we got to Mexico, they would have attacked the night before we left for the city. They knew we were in this hotel, and which room was Harry's. It's obvious they have someone working here, inside the Mexican government."

"Well, that's not too surprising," Tonks said, thinking over what Hermione said. "We knew they were inside the Militar. The bureaucracy here in the capital seems even less competent. Not that the Militar's incompetent, they just have no resources-"

"Phil's not here," Harry reminded Tonks, as she started to cover what she'd said. She blushed and her hair took on a reddish color. She was obviously still somewhat asleep, if she'd forgotten who she was talking to. Harry gave her a pat on the back and said, "The mole could be anyone we met today, no chance we're going to flush whoever it is out. We can't stay here, though. Need to start this investigation proper, actually talk with the Militar."

"This attack was different," Ron said, surprising everyone. They thought he'd gone to sleep again. "They just wanted to scare us the first time. This was supposed to kill Harry immediately, quietly. Give them hours to hide whatever evidence connecting them they needed. Its someone in the city, someone still here, and not necessarily the same one who sent the totem thingy to Britain."

"Your occasional bouts of extreme insight frighten me, Ron," Tonks said, very seriously. Harry just laughed as Andy looked bewildered. Hermione was mulling over her husband's words, though.

"All of you know more about criminals than me," Hermione said, very serious, "but Harry's right. We need to leave, tomorrow morning. We'll take Phil with us if we can, but we should keep it quiet, not let anyone know. Right now, we need sleep, though, get our energy up. Can you…take the snake elsewhere to…get rid of it."

"Sure, 'Mione," Harry said, taking his wand back out and levitating the world's deadliest viper out a few feet in front of him. Tonks and Andy followed him, the latter trying to stifle a yawn. She was rather embarrassed that she hadn't had anything to say in the matter. She wasn't exactly a field agent, and things like this were a new experience to her.

"Seriously," Tonks said when they were out of the room, "Ron just freaks me out sometimes when he suddenly becomes super helpful."

"I still think it has something to do with a brain that attacked him in the Department of Mysteries a few years back," Harry said.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Come, Senor Potter, you must meet Senora Gravis. Her donations last year single handedly paid for our new archive wing," Secretary Milagro said much too happily, bringing yet another of the Mexican wizarding aristocrats to meet Harry. The large, bubbling, rather overbearing woman took hold of Harry's hand, and shook it to the point the thought it might detach. So far, their plan to leave quickly and quietly had failed spectacularly, but Harry knew what Agent Kemper meant now about the pureblood families of Mexico putting the British to shame.

"Oh, Senor Potter," the lady Gravis said, about to burst with enthusiasm, "I have read everything about all you've done in Britain, getting rid of all those awful Dark Wizards. I must say, you're even more handsome than they say."

Harry attempted to force a grin at the woman's very poorly hidden flirtatious tone. He needed to find the others in the huge crowd of blue bloods and bureaucrats and make a quick retreat. They'd already stashed all their luggage in a large bag that Hermione had managed to shrink enough to be put in her not oft used purse. Getting the trunk in there had been especially hard, and they could only hope it wouldn't break loose and tear through all their other luggage.

Harry avoided having to answer the woman as she saw another person of import she needed to impress. He gratefully skirted past her and ducked his head through the crowd, looking for an out. Maybe if he just managed to get away, he could find the others later. No way he was going to find them in this party the Secretary had managed to set up so quickly.

"They're not going to let you leave," came a voice next to Harry's ear. Only a good deal of self-control kept him from spinning around with a hex on his tongue. This was a public place, and not a situation to start hurling spells in. He turned his head slightly, trying to see the person who'd spoken out of the corner of his eye without actually acknowledging whoever it was. A tall, older Mexican man was standing behind him, very pointedly not looking at Harry as he drank punch from a glass.

"What was that?" Harry asked quietly, only raising his voice loud enough to be heard over the dull roar of the crowd in the reception room. The man turned so he was facing the opposite direction from Harry, but so the two were now close enough to speak without appearing to be speaking.

"Secretario Milagro," he said, using the same loud whisper as Harry, "Sangria owns him, and Sangria does not want you to leave. You help the Militar with the New Sun, it cuts his power off at the knees. Shows we're needed, puts the famous savior of Britain next to our organization, and makes all the blue bloods want to suck up to us, suddenly."

"Us?" Harry asked, "You're with the Militar?"

"Yes," the man said, "or, well, I was. I am Marco Mercador. My son Felipe brought you and your friends here."

"Phil's father?" Harry asked, unable to keep himself from turning to look at the man fully. Marco was graying at the temples, but a very rugged, distinguished looking man. Harry could see a resemblance to what Phil had said of his father. Marco looked around quickly to see that they were not noticed and faced Harry as well.

"Si," he said, speaking more quickly now, "I am here to help you and your friends. Felipe told me everything that has happened, and I knew Sangria would never let you out of Mexico City. Some of my contacts here told me he sent quite a lot of owls out from the secretary's office last night, after your meeting. His plans are in motion, but there are ways out of the city he doesn't know."

"I thought you were the top in the Militar," Harry said, still a few steps behind in the conversation. "You're not inside anymore? How are you getting us out, then?"

"Don't worry," Mercador smiled wryly, "One of Sangria's first orders when he gained a stranglehold here was that I was booted out, but I still have all my old friends. Let's say I haven't retired completely from Dark Wizard hunting. We must move quickly, though. You will be taken to my family's home, where Felipe and I will meet you. The investigation and dismantling of the Nuevo Sol cult will begin from there."

Harry gave a wicked smile and said, "Lead on, Senor Mercador."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A/N: I had a lot of plans for this chapter, but they were quite big. I did my best, though, and I'm rather happy with this one, hope you will be as well. Thanks to morriganscrow as always for reviewing, and to all my readers. Please keep reading, and more reviews couldn't hurt. Thanks, everyone.


	13. Part 13: The Escape

-1Part 13: The Escape

"Phil, good to see you, mate," Ron said, before Hermione shushed him. They were in a cantina located around the back alley of one of the seedier wizarding areas of Mexico City. Harry had learned long ago that there were places far worse than Knockturn Alley in the world, the favorite British haunt just had a certain flair of style. This place was dusty, old, and looked as if no one would ever be interested in fixing it up again. Even so, Marco Mercador had been adamant that it was their only way out of the city.

"Quiet, please," Mercador said, turning from where he was crouched at a small safe behind the bar. Harry wondered why no one was around, and who owned the place. Might very well be a Militar front building. Any competent law enforcement agency had a good many safe houses scattered in major areas. Everyone had been glad to find Felipe waiting for them at the bar, poring over several old magical tomes. He explained that he had been pitching himself fully into studying the New Sun and the ancient magic they used since Harry had declared they wouldn't be leaving without him.

"How did you manage to get free of Milagro and Sangria?" Phil asked quietly, closing the book he'd been reading and putting it aside.

"Wasn't easy," Harry said, walking to take one of the ancient stools. A large cloud of dust rose when he plopped himself down. Coughing, he said, "Their little scheme worked against them, though. Once we'd managed to work through the crowd with a few good Steering Charms, no one was able to notice as we left their little party. Tonks was brilliant, turned into one of those large blue blood, society women. Managed to distract Milagro and kept us hidden on the way out."

"Always happy to put my massive girth to good use," Tonks smirked, striking a pose with her hands on her hips. It only highlighted how rail thin her normal body was, despite a very healthy appetite. She could almost put Ron to shame at the big dinners the Weasleys often invited the Lupins to join, and the two had often ended up in a bit of an unofficial contest while their stuffed relatives looked on in equal awe and disgust.

"Those security guys almost had us, though," Andy said, taking a seat one down from Harry. She thought it best not to be too forward. "I think they had orders to keep us there, by whatever means. Which means they'll only be getting more desperate, now."

"And more violent," Mercador said, as he finally managed to work the rusty hinges of the safe open. He scooped up several large envelopes inside, all looking very neat and new compared to everything else. "I have no doubt Sangria is working for the Nuevo Sol, though there's still nothing, ah…solid. The connection will be hard to place. Very good work, though, having all your luggage ready like that."

"Training pays off," Tonks smiled. "The miniaturization will wear off soon, though. It's hard to multiple charms hold together."

"Yes…" Mercador said, eyeing the crate Harry had returned to normal size when they'd gotten there. It had been rattling fitfully every so often. "That, uh, that box there…"

"Nothing to worry about," Harry said, knowing his concern. "It's harmless. Or, well, it hasn't harmed any of us, yet."

"Matter of time, there, my friend," Ron said, still frightened of the trunk since he'd been attack by a vicious, non-magical suitcase in their hotel in New York. Andy and Hermione looked thoughtfully at the crate as the padlocks shook again.

"Come, we must move quickly," Mercador said, spreading the envelopes out across the bar. He considered them thoughtfully for a moment, saying, "They'll regroup soon enough. Sangria is annoying, but not a fool. Now, one of these should have four portkeys to the Militar branch near our home. A couple of us shall, ah, have to share. They've been able to keep most of their operation going, due to distance and at times blatantly ignoring Sangria's call for cutbacks."

"How can he do this to a government agency?" Andy asked, appalled. "He has no public office, right? No citizen should be able to single handedly decimate a country's main law enforcement, no matter how rich."

"You're not familiar with Mexico," Felipe said, as his father attempted to figure out which envelope was which. Apparently the codes had changed since he'd been forced to leave the Militar. "This is not America. The wizard families there are very young, and they took to democracy as eagerly as the Muggles. The families in this country still believe this is Europe, and that things should be run the way they were when they left that continent."

"So, what is Mexico going to do now about law enforcement, with their main defense crippled?" Andy asked, angered by Sangria's actions. These men, in Mexico City, and the New Sun cult were crippling the wizards of Mexico, and the community seemed to be just letting it happen.

"The families are only concerned with themselves," Felipe said, saddened. "Sangria has convinced them that all the Militar has ever been is a threat to their freedom and power in the country. They don't know about the Nuevo Sol, and just ignore the fact that crime is increasing rapidly now. They feel safe locked away in their estates."

"Phil, for what it's worth," Harry said, "I'm very glad you brought us here. We'll do anything we can to help your country."

Phil smiled widely, just as his father triumphantly announced that he'd found the portkeys to the Yucatan. Now, all he needed to do was remember the incantation to activate them. Ron, who had wondered over to the dirt caked window of the cantina, suddenly spoke up, "Better hurry up with that, Mr. Mercador. I think the big wigs finally got their acts together. Incoming."

Harry, Tonks, and Kemper sprung to action, wands out as they sprinted to Ron and flanked him around the window. Outside, a group of greasy thugs had just Apparated, and were now looking about, searching for something. Hermione drew her wand and joined the Mercadors behind the bar as Felipe hurriedly packed his books away into a bag he had with him. Harry glanced at Tonks, seeing she and the others were at full attention, and said, "Looks like some hired muscle. Sangria didn't chance sending anyone on his official payroll after us."

"This is gonna get messy," Tonks muttered. She had seniority, but in combat situations, Harry always took point. He was the master strategist and fearless leader, while she was more well known for her spying abilities due to her talents. It was a bad situation, boxed in, outnumbered, and with two untrained friends to worry about. Mr. Mercador was probably well trained, but he was busy testing the keys with his wand, running through every possible activator he could think of and looking for a reaction.

"Tonks, Andy," Harry spoke quickly and quietly, "flank the front of the bar. Blow out the windows if need be, but only start after we engage. Ron, with me, we'll take them head on, before they figure out exactly where we are. Proteus shields, they won't be using any complex hexes. Big guys, though, so hit them hard. Bone breakers if need be, aim for the legs."

The other three nodded and hurried to find their positions. Andy was almost in awe of Harry's ability to devise tactics so quickly, but she was quick to do what he said, sure he would know best how to handle this. She looked across the room to see Tonks crouched in front of the other window. The Auror caught her eye and nodded, affirming readiness. Andy nodded back, and looked back to Harry for her cue.

"Hermione?" Harry asked over his shoulder, casting a quick shield charm.

"We're ready, Harry," Hermione said firmly. She wasn't an Auror, but she had fought alongside Harry long enough to know how to handle a difficult situation. Gesturing for Phil to duck under the counter, she looked to Mercador to see the man still concentrating hard on the keys, but glancing up regularly to see the others. If only he didn't have to focus on their escape route, he could probably help them end this with almost no injuries. Now, though, she just needed to be ready to enter the fight herself.

"Reducto!" Harry shouted, turning the moldy front door into a cloud of splinters. Without pausing, he began throwing hexes at the eight large, dangerous looking men who had just begun walking toward the cantina. Ron was beside him immediately, casting his own spells. Harry had been right, and the men staggered at the strong stunners and binders that hit them, but most of them were fast enough to duck away or simply shrugged the spells off.

Andy bolted up and blew out the window with a quick curse. She knew she wasn't practiced enough in battle to take these men down directly, so she thought quick and cast several old spells she remembered from school. They had been designed for the Fourth of July by students who couldn't afford the good fireworks, and exploded in blinding light all around the thugs. It worked wonders, confusing the men and making them shoot their stunners wildly.

"Nice one, Andy!" Tonks yelled, laughing as she threw a reductor at three of the men's feet, causing the dirt road to explode and send earth flying into their eyes and mouths. She smiled wickedly, deciding Kemper wasn't the only clever witch in the room. Although, she had gotten the idea from the Yank, but who cared about details. Her smile vanished as one of the grease balls got off a lucky curse with some power behind it. It hit Harry head on and broke his shield.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled, watching her friend go flying back into a table. He still seemed conscious, as he strained to get back up, but his back refused to respond. Ron, enraged at the sight of his friend being hurt, hurled stunners and binders that took out the last two grunts still standing. Seething, he ran out into the street, looking for anyone else that might want some trouble. Andy ran to help Harry, while Tonks hurried after Ron. She managed to calm the red head down, and they set about binding their attackers with the strongest ropes they could conjure.

"Harry," Andy said, kneeling next to the prone wizard. Hermione was their a moment later, as they both looked at him anxiously. Harry managed to lift his head slightly with a grunt, and peered at the two girls through one eye. He gave his best reassuring grin before passing out. The two women each took one of his hands, sick with concern. They needed a hospital, Hermione thought. They also needed to get out of here. There would be more people coming, and it would be even worse if they didn't get Harry out of the city.

"Aqui!" Mercador yelled, finally getting one of the portkeys to jump about wildly in his hand. The little bottle cap wanted desperately to take off toward its destination, now that the incantation had been found. He handed one to his son, and gave him the word before hurrying to the girls. Taking two caps, he said, "Use these, the word is 'Santos Muertos.' One of you will have to hold on tight to him to bring Senor Potter along."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry groaned softly, cursing the pain that stabbed in his back as he awoke, but relishing the comfort of the bed he was in. He had no idea where he was, but it didn't really bother him. Over the years, he had grown rather used to waking up in strange hospitals after all the rather ridiculous situations he got himself into. Light pierced his eyelids, despite his best efforts, and after a moment recalled how he had gotten hurt. Taking a quick look around, it seemed that he had been taken to what looked like a small but very nice home.

"Awake, Harry?" called a voice, seeing Harry's movement. Managing to swing his mildly throbbing head around, he saw Agent Kemper sitting on a wooden rocking chair, one of her many files in her lap. Following his gaze, Andy blushed and said, "I haven't had much time to organize my information on the case in several days. Thought I'd take the opportunity."

"I take it we're not in danger of having another gang of hired thugs descend upon us soon?" Harry smirked, laying his head back on the pillow gratefully. He hadn't been this tired in a while, and the warmth of the bed was a wonderful treat. It had been so long since he had gotten hurt like this, he'd forgotten how nice convalescence could be.

"Oh, you took care of those guys rather well," Andy smiled, "Sangria will think twice about coming after us the next time."

"Wasn't just me," Harry said, offended, "you all were brilliant. You'll have to teach me that light charm you used. Very useful, that. All I did was let my shield break and get knocked out in the middle of battle. Hope I wasn't a burden."

"Harry, don't speak like that," Andy said seriously. "We wouldn't have made it out of there if you hadn't been leading us. I've never even been in a standoff like that, before. Honestly, I usually just ride a desk in New York. This whole case has been a great learning experience."

"Glad someone's getting something out of it," Harry laughed, before he noticed a small bandage on Andy's cheek. "Looks like you got hurt, too. You all right?"

"Oh," she said, touching the bandage lightly, "a shard of glass from the window cut me. I didn't even notice until we got here to Mr. Mercador's house. Sorry, didn't even mention where we were. Everyone else is eating with Felipe and his family. Really, though, Harry, worrying about a little cut on my cheek while you're laid up like that with your back hurt. You need to look after yourself."

"Ah, it doesn't feel broken. I worry about you lot, too," Harry said, missing the blush that crossed Andy's face. "I know from experience that Ron and Tonks can handle themselves, but Hermione isn't an Auror. Ron must be sick from worry over her on this trip. Wouldn't want to see you hurt, either. I've lost too many people I care about in my life, I decided a long time ago I wouldn't let it happen again."

"Well, ah…" Andy stumbled. She was sure Harry wasn't referring to her specifically when he said all that. He must just be recalling all the bad memories left to him by years of fighting battles and defeating evil. It took a strong man to survive all of that, let alone one who could actually give a genuine smile even years later. Oh crap, she thought, she really did like him. So dumb to be in one's later twenties and still getting crushes, though this was the first she had had in years.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione squealed as she burst through the door, ending the awkwardly lengthening silence between the two. "I hope you're feeling better. We have to get ready, it's Halloween tomorrow!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A/N: School has started, but I managed to make time to continue this fic and keep my promise to you, loyal readers. Or not so loyal, honestly, I'd just be glad if you read through it at your most casual. And I'd be your best friend if you left a review. The next chapter will be a bit more fun, but I plan on getting all these plot threads moving toward a satisfying climax. Don't know how far away that will be, but I severely doubt my first fic will break the 100,000 word mark.


	14. Part 14: The Dead

-1Part 14: The Dead

"This is what I had imagined Mexico would be like," Hermione said cheerfully, watching in rapt attention as the parade passed. It was going through the center of the lovely town the Mercadors called home, and all the wizards and witches had come to watch and celebrate Dia de los Muertos. She had attempted to explain to everyone how important the day was culturally and religiously to the Mexican people, but everyone just watched the animated skeletons as they danced and jumped around. Floats designed by the town's children drifted by, spelled to move themselves along.

"Foo's grea', 'oo," Ron managed to say through a mouth packed so full of tamale, Harry wasn't sure how his friend was breathing. Hermione just sighed and punched Ron in the arm, while Tonks bet him he couldn't get five more in. Andy laughed at the antics, but blushed and smiled when she saw Harry glance at her. Crap, she really needed to get past the 'school girl' phase of this whole crush thing.

"Wish Phil had come with us," Harry said, as an imp flew up and handed him a brightly painted skull mask. The others agreed, but they knew their friend needed to be with his family. Felipe had told them before they left for the celebration that he and his sisters were going to the cemetery to visit their mother. They had no place intruding on a family at a time like that, but they'd all wished him well. Harry put on the mask and turned to the girls, saying, "How do I look?"

"Very dashing," Tonks said with a supremely straight face, while Hermione just giggled as the mask began chattering its teeth at them. Harry gave Andy a grin, and noticed the surprisingly warm smile she gave him. Since when had she started smiling at him like that, he wondered. He also wondered about the odd feeling toward the bottom of his stomach, but was distracted when Tonks shoved a large sombrero on his head, decorated with little tow men that were setting off fireworks.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Hola, Mama," Felipe said quietly. His three younger sisters walked slowly up to the grave of their mother and laid down the large arrangement of flowers they had brought for her. There were candles of prayer lit, and other reminders of the woman placed around her resting place. The cemetery was quite full of people remembering loved ones this evening, but it was rather still and quiet compared to the celebrations going on in town. Their father had declined to visit with his children, saying there were some important things to deal with at home.

Lena, the youngest of the girls, hugged Phil's waist tightly and wept quietly. Putting his arm around her, he knew their tears weren't just for their mother this year. Marcos had told him what had happened at home after he had left for Britain late the previous night, after they had tended to Harry and everyone else passed out from exhaustion. Phil's younger brother, Hector, had run from home, as well, only a day after Phil. Unfortunately, Hector had told Marcos exactly why he was leaving.

Felipe had always known his brother had suffered under the heroic image of their father, just as he had, but it had made the younger boy angry and spiteful. Hector always set himself apart from his siblings, trying his best to adopt the image of the rebellious child. While they had all known this, it wasn't until the night Hector left that Marcos found out just how strongly his son felt. Marcos, nursing a stiff drink, had told Phil, "Tu hermano, he hates me, deeply. He said he resented having a father so full of himself, and a brother with…with 'no spine', apparently."

Phil sighed and closed his eyes at the memory. Hector had never been a loving brother, but to hear those words, what he really thought, it struck Phil deeply. His father said they had no idea where his brother had gone, or why he'd left just after his brother. Marcos assured him, though, that Hector was his problem, now that his time with the Militar was over and his family was his sole concern. Phil wanted to argue, but had only agreed with his father's wish that he continue with his new friends and take out the Nuevo Sol bastards that had caused all this.

"Come on, mija," Phil said quietly, picking up Lena to give her a ride. The other girls, too old for things like that, decided to just walk beside their brother as they left graveyard. They missed their mother, but this day wasn't meant to be sad. Today, they were to remember those gone, and reflect on the good memories they had. Walking down the small hill that led to the town's small church, Lena declared excitedly that she wanted to see the imps at the parade. Smiling, Phil said, "Whatever you say, Lena."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Seeing with clouded eyes, it stalked through the crowd. It was surrounded by fake skeletons as they danced, small creatures flitting about, people in giant masks laughing and singing, but it cared for none of them. Its legs were unsteady, but they had not decayed so much as to let the creature fall. Scents of fried meats, flowers, and many people crowded the air, but it knew the scent it was looking for. Somewhere nearby, it knew, its prey was hiding.

"This bread is good," Harry said, munching on the roll a vendor had handed to him. Ron nodded his agreement, while Hermione looked fascinated by a pixie that had decided to braid her hair. Tonks was busy playing with a group of children, scaring and delighting them by making monster faces. Harry looked to Agent Kemper, who was still watching the floats, and offered her a large piece, asking, "D'ya like a bit, Andy?"

Andy turned and opened her mouth to answer, but movement behind Harry caught her eye. A figure was shuffling its way out of the crowd of the parade, looking decidedly inhuman. With all the costumes a party goers, it was hard to tell it apart. Even so, its joints moved in ways that just seemed wrong as its head swung back forth in search of something. It was, however, moving decidedly toward Harry, she thought, as she regained her voice and said, "H-Harry, what's…what is that behind you?"

Harry turned, his smile sliding off his face in horror. Andy's finger trembled as she pointed, and slowly the other turned to look at the thing now trudging decidedly toward them. One of the skeletons tried to get it to dance, but the creature shook it off, its slickly green arm lashing out as it groaned in anger. The three Aurors drew their wands quickly, as Hermione attempted to shoo away the pixie, who was determined to finish her work. Andy stood frozen, her horror at the sight of this unnatural thing overriding her instincts as an agent.

"A totem," Hermione whispered, fear crawling up from her stomach. She pushed it aside as best she could, drawing her wand and being analytical as always. She said, "This one is different. The other, the one at the Ministry, was much older. It was just a husk, barely human anymore. This…it's new. Someone j-just sacrificed this…thing."

"Still looks really gross," Ron said firmly, "and really dead."

"And it's still after me," Harry said, his wand leveled at the totem, "Nothing new there." The crowd, sensing something was very amiss, began backing away from the scene, but not so far that they couldn't still see what was going on. The totem lifted its arms, with a great effort, toward Harry, as if it expected to attack him from a hundred feet away. He didn't know what it was doing for a moment, until he heard Hermione gasp and he looked more closely at the dead creature's outstretched arms.

The creature was moist, its limbs rather juicy compared to the one they'd seen before. Now, it looked as if the pus and whatever other liquids still contained with in its body were beginning to pour out of its arms. This liquid quickly gathered and formed a disgusting, gooey substance, spreading across the totem's limbs. The substance spread and grew, until large drops began falling and splattering over the dusty, unpaved road of the town's center. By this time, most of the citizens had fled, though several courageous wizards still stood watching, seeing that the dead creature seemed rather intent on the foreigners standing, wands ready, in a nearby alleyway.

"Ew," Ron said with a sneer of disgust. "This one leaks."

"No," Hermione said, "look." She pointed to the gel dropping from the totem, that congealed on the ground and now seemed almost to be moving. A moment later, Harry realized the horrific little lumps of dead fluid were moving, forming themselves into oblong shapes and wriggling along at an alarmingly fast pace.

"Slugs!" Ron gasped, his disgust born anew. He, more than any of the others, had reason to hate slugs, mostly due to one rather vivid experience from his school days. He started backing away, till Tonks stamped on his foot and looked at him sharply. Aurors weren't supposed to just run away, after all. Hermione was the first to react, and used the same flame charm that Harry and Tonks had used to kill the locusts the first totem had attacked with. Unfortunately, the flames simply fizzled as the slugs turned to little mounds of goop, before reforming themselves and continuing their slow attack.

"That's it," Harry said, his short patience finally snapping. Andy and Hermione reached to stop him as he walked determinedly toward the creature. The slugs, sensing their target, began to try to crawl up Harry's legs. To what purpose, no one will ever know as he quickly shook them off and stomped on them. The magic that kept the things together continued take the pressure as they burst apart, refusing to reform. Harry raised his wand and shouted a reductor curse at the totem. His anger was such that the spell was powerful enough to knock the corpse across the square, crashing into one of the floats that now sat abandoned.

"I guess that works," Andy said, taken aback by the rather anticlimactic battle. Hermione noted, intelligently, that the totems seemed to be creatures meant to frighten more than harm, and that they could be deadly to a Muggle. As they cleaned up the area, the townspeople began emerging from their many hiding places, all looking rather put out at having their celebration disrupted. Andy walked to Harry, who was still seething, and put a reassuring hand on his arm, saying, "Just means we're still on the right path."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"How was the visit?" Harry asked. The Mercador house was quiet in the wee hours of day of the dead. Marcos had put his daughters to bed early, after hearing Harry's account of their adventure in town. He promised that he'd take them to the Militar in the morning, and retired for the evening himself. The second half of the Mexican celebration, the group had discovered, seemed to be drinking, and they were all now rather happily buzzed.

"Sad, as it always is," Felipe said, looking thoughtfully at his glass. "My brother's absence was more upsetting than anything to the girls. Hector was not a good son, and disliked me, but he was always kind to the girls. Especially after Madre died, he didn't want the girls to grow up afraid of their padre like we had."

"Mmm," Harry grunted, able to sympathize with a bad childhood. He knew what it was like to grow up afraid and feeling worthless. It was rather depressing to know so many other people had had to go through similar experiences. He finished his drink and said, "Still better than what we went through in town. Those totems seem rather pointless to me, despite what Hermione said."

At the sound of her name, Hermione made a sound that might have been a word, before shifting and drifting back to sleep with her head laid on the table. Ron had been gathering the strength to take her to bed for the better part of an hour. Tonks giggled, sipping her lime and tequila, though she was barely awake herself. Harry and Phil were the only ones still awake, though to Harry's embarrassment, Andy had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. He was doing his best not to move her, but his arm was quickly falling asleep.

"I…I should tell you something Senor Pott-Harry, I mean," Phil said, his sluggish brain trying to come to some serious point. Harry was glad his friend had stopped being so formal, finally, but he wondered what could make Phil so serious when so drunk. After a moment's thought, he continued, "It-this…whole thing, it's my fault. I was the one who said, said the Militar needed you. It turned out, mi-my superior was the mole. The one working for Nuevo Sol. They sent that totem after you because of me."

Harry sat silent for a moment, before bursting into a small fit of laughter. Andy mumbled in her sleep and shifted closer to Harry, which cut his laughter short in an instant. Blushing slightly, alcohol and proximity to a rather attractive American woman too much for him, Harry attempted to remember what they had been talking about. He looked at Felipe, who was now very confused, and said, "Phil, you shouldn't have worried about that. What's done is done, and frankly I'm glad I'm here, actually doing something helpful for you and the people here."

"Senor, I would have thought-I mean, you have been so kind to me," Phil mumbled, looking close to tears, either from joy or sadness. He couldn't tell which, yet.

"You're a friend, and I've never been good at the snobby celebrity act," Harry said. He gave Phil a light punch in the arm, saying, "It was an accident. The only people that make me angry are the ones that purposefully hurt innocents. They're all after the same thing, some vague goal of power and influence. I've seen too many people, too many friends, die because of that crap. Today, this festival, just reminded me of how many are gone because of Voldemort. Don't worry, Phil, the New Sun was right to be afraid of me."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A/N: So sorry for the delay on this one. This chapter just refused to come to me, and I think I may be losing some interest in this story. I refuse to leave this as just another dead, unfinished story, though. Thus is my promise. Again, thanks for reading, and please review. I'd sort of like to see more of those. Just saying.


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